Diverging Timelines Book 4: Crisis in the Andes
by Space-Time-Leapers
Summary: An unscheduled stop in Peru leads the Doctor and Sam Beckett into a situation which could affect the very fabric of time. Is the Brigadier's death a fixed point that can't be changed? Meanwhile the Master's plans are progressing rapidly thanks to the discovery of a unique meteorite. In addition, Jack and Rose discover just how dangerous the Pi Network is. Warning: Hints at rape.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Australian Outback_

_October 2008_

The small convoy of Hummers bounced along the dry and desolate landscape, kicking up dust as they plowed through the Australian Outback, quickly approaching their destination. Even from a distance, the occupants of the off-road vehicles could see that they weren't the first to arrive at the scene.

A darkly clad figure in the back seat of the second Hummer moaned slightly, plainly irritated. "Wonderful," he stated sarcastically. "Tourists. Or worse, law enforcement. Just exactly what we need."

Peri Langford, sitting beside the speaker, patted his leg. "Now, Harold. You don't know who they are. Besides, the meteorite landing was rather spectacular. All those calls about flying saucers and all. Can't expect that there wouldn't be some people interested in finding it."

Harold Saxon looked at the woman sitting beside him. If it had been anyone else, he would have made sure that she had never touched him in such a way again. However, this was his beloved Peri, the woman who had stolen his hearts. He could put up with just about anything when it came to her. "Peri, I don't expect there not to be interest. I expect to be first with everything. Which means that someone isn't doing their job," he finished, glaring at the back of the head of his assistant, who was sitting in the front seat.

Peri noticed the slight cringe in the shoulders of the assistant. Reginald Torkinson was nothing if not absolutely loyal to the man he worked for. She knew the extent he would go to assure that anything that his Master wanted would be taken care of in exacting detail. "I'm sure if these people are here, it's not Reggie's fault, dear. He knows how you like things and that would be his goal. Some things are just outside of human control."

The Master groused, "I suppose you're right. Can't expect him to be perfect. After all, only you and I are perfect."

Peri smiled at her lover. He had been so totally devoted to her since they had returned from that horrid time in Wales. She'd almost lost her life on that trip and still had nightmares. After all, being raped and left for dead wasn't something anyone would get over quickly if at all. Fortunately, there were the tapes that Harry had made to help her cope with those nightmares. She'd found that knowing the men had paid dearly for their crimes somehow lessened the sting. "Yes, Harry. That's it exactly. He tries his best and usually that is quite sufficient."

The Time Lord couldn't help but return the smile. "Reggie certainly is a boon, I have to admit." He knew that Peri's defending the assistant was her way of calming him. After all, there were a couple of times in the recent past when her words actually saved Reggie's life. Not that that was a reflection on Reggie's capacity as a loyal employee but rather on the Master's bad temper.

As the conversation lulled, Reggie's tension vanished with the knowledge that he wasn't about to get punched, stabbed, or generally mangled.

The convoy halted several yards away from the growing conflagration of vehicles at their destination. As they stopped, several people got out of the Hummers. Reggie got out quickly and opened the back door, allowing the Master to step out, his black duster billowing behind him as a breeze flitted across the open space. Peri followed, gently brushing down her pantsuit.

The Master went to the nearest police officer and inquired who the chief officer was. Learning the desired information, the two walked to the command station, the Master extending his gloved hand. "Dr. Harold Saxon, Prometheus Institute," he announced, putting on a friendly smile. "I understand you are in charge around here."

"Um. No. Professor Hawthorne is. We're just providing security for the site. We've already had several people trying to get through to the crater, some even trying to pick up debris."

"And where is this Professor Hawthorne?"

"She's over there," the police officer said, pointing to a good-looking woman in desert clothing.

"Is she now?" Harold questioned, squinting at the woman. He patted the officer on the shoulder. "Thank you for your time. You and your men can leave." He turned his head and looked deeply into the eyes of the officer. "Now," he ordered, knowing that the human would not be able to disobey him.

The police officer nodded almost immediately getting on the radio to call the force back to the command center.

Hearing that his order was indeed being followed, the Master grinned. "Rassilon, I love being a Time Lord."

"It does seem to create fantastic levels of efficiency," Peri smiled. "I can't imagine how long that would have taken me."

"With that body of yours... two minutes," he complimented.

"Oh, you..." she answered with a lilt in her voice and a slight wiggle in her step. She loved when he said such things to her.

Looking over his shoulder, he noticed that Reggie was still standing by the Hummer. "Come on, Reginald. Shift a bit with that container."

"Yes, sir," the assistant answered moving quickly to catch up with the two. He explained, "I was just awaiting your request. I know that you and Dr. Langford expect your privacy to be respected."

"Thank you for your consideration, Reggie," Peri answered before the Master could speak. "We really appreciate it."

The Master just rolled his eyes slightly, allowing the matter to drop as he continued towards his objective, namely the woman named Professor Hawthorne. "I see you've already planted your little scientific flag," he told her as he stopped beside her, causing her to look up from whatever it was she was writing.

"Yes..." she stated distractedly as she was still looking down. As her eyes rose, she saw a rather dapperly dressed attractive man looming above her. Based on the style of clothing, she didn't think he was there to provide scientific expertise to this project. "I wasn't expecting any show ponies around here. Who the hell are you?"

The Gallifreyan raised his eyebrows slightly at her words. While he knew that he had excellent taste in clothes and always held himself with the greatest care in public, he certainly wasn't out to impress anyone. Well, that wasn't exactly true; he did need to maintain a good appearance to achieve his goals. But after those goals came to pass, the only person he wanted to continue to impress was already completely in his power and vice versa. As he considered the rather rude person before him, he smiled at her naturally striking attributes. The woman had a slightly square face, though there still were some oval qualities. Long auburn hair draped down her back in a ponytail, allowing her immaculate complexion to be easily seen. Her blue eyes shone with intelligence, though there was definite annoyance there as well, as emphasized by the way her lips pursed. Extending his hand to her, he introduced, "Dr. Harold Saxon."

Professor Hawthorne blinked, ignoring the offered hand. "Dr. Harold Saxon?" She looked as if trying to recall some fact and then a glimmer of recognition graced her face. "From the Prometheus Institute? What are you doing here? I thought your interest was in further polluting near space with your satellites."

"Ouch," the Master stated bluntly. "Don't you believe in the betterment of humanity through technology?"

"I'm much more interested in the betterment of humanity through education and rigorous scientific thought," she answered without pause.

"They're one and the same, Dr. Hawthorne," he countered.

"So I've been told by others. However, if that were true, all of the great scientific breakthroughs that have occurred throughout history wouldn't have happened. What about Pythagoras... or... or... Newton? Most of the work that our own theories are now based on lived in a world of beeswax candles and vellum books."

"Which were made with their own version of technology," the Master added with a grin. "Besides, Newton wouldn't have developed his theory on gravity if someone I know hadn't dropped an apple on his head." He was thoroughly enjoying the banter with this intelligent woman.

Peri watched the two of them talking with growing consternation. She knew that Harry knew how to schmooze, how to work a room, how to put people at ease so he could slide the knife in without them knowing it, but this felt different. It was almost as if he was flirting with this professor and Peri didn't like it one bit. "Harry, perhaps you should make Dr. Hawthorne aware that she is trespassing?"

"Trespassing?" Hawthorne questioned with a frown. "Who is this? Your offsider?"

Harry glanced over towards Peri, noting the look on her face. Was that... no... jealousy? From Peri? He smirked slightly at the thought. If he could evoke such a reaction from her with a simple conversation with a fellow scientist - well, fellow being a loose term when it came to humans, especially one that was wrapped so nicely - it was just proof to him just how much Peri loved him. He decided that this attention was definitely... exhilarating. "Dr. Peri Langford is my colleague, Doctor..." he started. "I'm sorry. I didn't get your first name."

"It's Margaret," she said patiently. "What's this about trespassing? I'm here because having a meteorite of this size and composition is a major geological event and I'm a professor of Geology. Preliminary data is sketchy but rich. That's all I'm interested in."

"Oh, really? Do tell." He crossed his arms. "Especially since this..." He frowned at the object embedded in the ground for a moment. "... space rock... happens to have crashed on property belonging to the Prometheus Institute." He noticed the frown that again overtook the woman's face and stated, "However, I appreciate the work you have done. I'm sure it will provide a baseline for further study, Margaret. I may call you, Margaret?" he inquired, extending his hand once more in the hope that the friendly action would get the scientist to open up to him.

The woman looked at the extended hand and finally took it, deciding that following her grandmother's advice about catching flies with honey might be a good idea. "Thank you, Dr. Saxon. As I said, my interest is solely in learning more about the meteorite... the fact that it didn't break apart upon impact and the unique composition of its core. It's a fascinating phenomenon."

"The Chief back there was under the impression that you had a few people interested in souvenirs," the Master stated. "I'm guessing they just picked up ordinary rocks thinking they were part of the meteorite."

Peri added to his query. "Just which college are you a professor of anyway... Margaret?" She couldn't hide the irritation towards this woman who seemed intent on taking her man from her.

Margaret looked from Harold Saxon to the woman. "I'm the Geology Department Head for the University of Melbourne," she answered the woman first. "I'm quite competent to be leading this expedition, I can assure you." To the head of P.I. - as people were beginning to shorten the institute's name after the many press releases that had come out about the great new satellite initiative - she answered, "Well... yes and no. Yes, they were thinking they were picking up parts of the meteorite but, no, they weren't ordinary rocks."

Harry's grin broadened noticeably. "I went to the University of Melbourne. Fine school," he commented. "And how were they not ordinary rocks?"

"Are you familiar with what happens to silicon at a nuclear blast site?"

"Trinitite," he replied. "Yes, I'm fully aware of the effects of a nuclear explosion on local geology. So, you're saying you found Trinitite here?"

"Again, the answer's not straight forward. The created substance is similar to Trinitite but it has completely different characteristics." She reached into her pocket and pulled out some irregular crystalline nuggets. Each had a glow that could be seen even in the direct sunlight of the Australian plain. "Here are a couple of them. The glow's not radioactive. Just thought you should know."

"Good to know. I didn't think they would be, given that you are carrying them around in your pocket." He took one of the nuggets and held it up to the sun, watching the glow flit across its surface. He couldn't help but be reminded of a trip he had once made to one of the museums on Gallifrey. Displayed there were a collection of rocks and nuggets from before the Age of Rassilon, back when Gallifrey's technology was as primitive as Earth's current state. His eyes widened when he realized that the nugget in his hand was similar. In fact, if it weren't for the more brownish hue, it would be nearly identical. "But... that's impossible!" he exclaimed.

"Well, not impossible," Margaret stated. "I mean, since this meteorite has apparently altered the molecular properties to create that nugget, by definition it is possible. I do understand your excitement, though. This is one special visitor from... 'out there,'" she smiled.

Peri rolled her eyes. "Dr. Saxon was just using a euphemism. He _does_ understand that, if it exists, it's possible. Don't treat him like one of your first year students, _Professor_."

Margaret was surprised by the woman's outburst. "I apologize. I never meant to infer that Dr. Saxon didn't understand the concept. It was just a..." she trailed off with a weak smile. "Please forgive my lapse, Doctor."

The Time Lord, in the meantime, had taken the second nugget from Margaret, regarding it carefully and shaking his head. He wasn't about to contradict Peri here. It would bring up too many questions from Hawthorne. What neither of them understood was that he wasn't exaggerating with his words. There shouldn't be anything remotely like these rocks on Earth, not unless one of the smallest asteroids of the Constellation of Kasterborous lost its orbit and traveled the millions of light years between Gallifrey and Earth, breaking apart as it went. He was distracted from his thoughts when he heard Margaret calling him "Doctor." He thought of how many times he'd heard that title being used in reference to his old friend and current adversary. He knew that Margaret hadn't meant it that way. Still, for a moment it brought his old school chum to mind.

"No harm," he answered with a grin. "So, Margaret," he continued, the name dripping off his lips as if it were fine wine. "What can you tell me about our latest squatter?" If she'd found these nuggets, he was interested in her assessment of the meteorite.

"It's like no meteorite I've ever seen before. It has an energy signature for one. That's probably related to the creation of the nuggets."

"And I take it an energy signature from a meteorite isn't exactly commonplace around here." He gave her a wide grin, obviously showing that he knew the answer to that question even before he asked it. He walked around the crater, looking down at the object in question. "Any other interesting qualities?"

"We haven't fully examined it... but it looks denser than it should be. Certainly denser than a nickel-iron meteorite."

"So... it's extraterrestrial. It's very dense, like a lot of people in this country." He raised his eyebrows. "You don't think it could be 'alien,' do you?" He wiggled his fingers close to his face, indicating a lack of belief in extraterrestrial life.

She looked at him rather strangely, obviously clearly wondering if this Dr. Saxon was off his rocker with his Saturday afternoon matinee kitschy-ness. "Of course, it's extraterrestrial. It came from space."

The Master glared at her with a hint of a grin, mild admiration mixed with a large amount of annoyance on his face. It was one thing to have to be around this simian-like creature with an attitude; it was even a greater irritation for her to be so... inflexible with humor. "I was being facetious."

She raised her eyebrow. "Right. You tend to do that a lot, I gather... at least it appears so based on several of your press conferences."

The expression on the Gallifreyan's face turned even sourer at her words. Already he could tell that he really didn't like this human in the least. Still, what was that saying of theirs? Something about sugar and an eating utensil... went along with an extremely annoying song in a children's film. "Let me guess. No sense of humor at all." He tilted his head and clicked his tongue. "Pity. Gorgeous woman like you... In that case, let me be blunter with my words. It's not from this solar system, is it," he stated directly, his eyes meeting hers. He wondered briefly if he could hypnotize her into being less annoying.

Peri turned her head quite suddenly in his direction. She was about to say something about his appreciation of the other woman's beauty when she saw something in his eyes which confused her. Turning to Reggie, who was standing back a bit, metal container in hand, she asked with her eyes if he could tell what was going on with this little tête à tête.

Reggie gave a little shrug at her glance, not knowing how to react to the situation. He'd never seen the Master flirt with anyone other than Peri. Sure, the man was smooth but that had nothing to do with the sex of his opponent, rather more to do with overall strategy. And even though he answered to Peri as well in a more secondary manner, Reggie wasn't about to get on the Master's bad side - a very nasty bad side, at that - by giving an opinion one way or the other on this apparently new behavior. He liked his head exactly where it was, thank you very much.

Peri sighed. If Reggie was this intransient about the situation, she figured that once she had Harry alone, they could discuss this... new activity of her lover.

Meanwhile, Margaret was answering the Master's question. "No," she stated just as bluntly. She tilted her head. "The fact that you're here, Dr. Saxon, I assume means that you are claiming this meteorite. I wish you would let the University examine it first. It's a great scientific find."

"Yes, I'm sure that it is. Which is why we are taking it into our hands for study."

Dr. Hawthorne frowned and narrowed her eyes. "I thought that the Prometheus Institute stood for academic excellence. The University has the proper labs set up. We have the equipment to fully run tests on it and we'd be more than happy to share any data with you."

"I'm sure you would but we have our own resources," Saxon replied before jumping into the crater and moving towards the object in question. "When did it drop again?"

"It hit earth four days ago," Margaret stated. She followed him. "Well, with your resources and our expertise, we'd be able to do the most intensive study of a meteorite ever."

"Nice try, Dr. Hawthorne, but... we don't need your assistance." Reaching down, he picked up the meteorite and tossed it between his gloved hands playfully.

"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, horrified at his actions. "That's a scientific specimen. It needs to be monitored to determine its properties. We've had a scan on it for two days to understand how it holds temperature, how it reacts as it cools, how it..."

"Two days?" the Master interrupted her. He looked up at Reggie with a glare, accusing him with his eyes for the obvious difference in time.

Reggie swallowed tightly before stepping forward. "I had spent those two days tracking the information about the likely location of the meteorite's final position, sir. There wasn't much information. If I hadn't run across the information about the need for security in this area, it may have taken longer."

Margaret sighed. "So that's what tipped you off, huh. What a fizzer. Damned if you do; damned if you don't." At the confusion on the newcomers' faces, she clarified. "Like you heard, we had souvenir hunters. It was either allow them to take more of the nuggets or have security show up. I opted for security."

"If it took our assistant so long to find out, how was it that you find out about the meteorite so quickly?" Peri queried. She already knew Reggie's prowess at discovering information before the general public could... most of the time.

"I was on another project about fifteen miles from here. The night the meteorite dropped, there was no question where it landed. I was just in the right place at the right time."

"And you kept the location as quiet as possible," the Master concluded.

"Exactly. From the moment we saw this, we knew it was something special. We wanted to get as much information as quickly as we could."

Saxon tossed the meteorite in the air again, catching it skillfully. "Which was absolutely nothing. Am I right? I mean, other than it's 'unusual.'"

"It takes time to properly study these things," she said, watching him toss the unique specimen around as if it were a baseball. Her next comment was dry as the brush around them. "If this is the way you plan to study it, I doubt the results will be very useful to researchers."

He stopped playing with the meteorite, giving her a hard look. "Dr. Hawthorne, I will remind you one last time that this is property of the Prometheus Institute. Don't worry your pretty little head. If we find anything of scientific value to the University, we will let you know." Looking to his left, he called out, "Reginald, bring the container. I have a specimen for you."

"Yes, sir." The assistant moved into the crater with the metal container he'd been holding since he'd left the vehicle.

The Master opened the box with one hand before gently placing the specimen into the padded interior, completely contradictory to the way he'd been handling it previously. Closing the box and latching it, he tapped the top of it before gesturing Reggie to take it to the car. He then turned back to Margaret with a smile. "Relax, Dr. Hawthorne. That precious rock is in very good hands," he stated before crawling out of the crater lithely.

Margaret Hawthorne glared up as she watched him and his party leaving. "Aren't you just a figjam! Coming waltzing in here and taking over without so much as a by your leave." Not getting a reaction from him and realizing there was nothing she could do short of assaulting him - which really wouldn't go over well considering his public and political clout - she called after them. "I still think this is a mistake."

"Blimey, you're as cross as a frog in a sock," Saxon called back to her. "Your opinion, Dr. Hawthorne, is duly noted. It is also noted that, unless you leave these premises within the next five minutes, you will be arrested for trespassing on private property." Seeing the stunned look on her face, he continued. "Oh, do be a love and leave any nuggets you or your team have collected on the property. They belong to P.I. as well." He reached into his pocket, taking out the nuggets he'd stashed there, the same ones she had given to him earlier. "And thanks for these samples, beautiful."

"You're making us leave? Why? The fact that the meteorite just happened to fall on your land doesn't mean that you get to waltz in here and keep one of the greatest Australian scientific finds."

"Actually, according to our contract with the government, yes, it does," he replied. "Now, move along. I'll just leave a few of my people behind to escort you off property. Maybe if you are a very good girl, I might just let you see the results we come up with. Of course, you're going to have to prove it to me just how good a girl you are." Giving her a wink, he turned away from the crater and walked to the caravan of Hummers. A few moments later, the P.I. team was on their way, leaving the scientific team wondering what had just happened.

Having placed the meteorite in the cargo area of the vehicle, Reggie took his place in the front, keeping his head straight forward as he was wont to do when not sure if the Master would want his input or not, the latter being the preferred action most of the time. He looked into the backseat through the mirror, however, and noticed that his mistress was most definitely pissed as she settled into the vehicle. He wouldn't even venture to think how his boss would interpret her body language, having her arms crossed and her jaw set.

Whistling as he slipped into the back seat beside Peri, the Master tapped the driver's shoulder, an act which informed him to return to the Prometheus Institute with their newly procured bounty. Crossing his legs as the car moved forward, he exhaled with contentment, not even noticing the look on Peri's face. After a long silence, however, he could feel her eyes burrowing deeply into him, causing him to frown in confusion and turn towards her. "What?"

"'What?' he asks me," Peri grumped. "I can't believe you did that."

He blinked at her words. "But that meteorite is amazing!" He dug into his pocket to pull out the nuggets. "And these... these have characteristics of rocks found only on Gallifrey! That field out there is a practical gold mine!"

"That's fine and dandy, but it's not what I'm referring to," she said, her words cold enough to cause frostbite.

"Then what, pray tell, are you referring to and do we have to put up the partition to prevent the staff from hearing a row?" he asked, his own voice turning frosty simply because it was obvious that she was angry with him... again.

"Oh. You don't have to put anything up. I'm not talking to you. Ergo, they won't hear anything."

He rolled his eyes. "If you aren't talking to me, then why are there words coming out of your mouth?"

Her eyes narrowed as she turned away, pulling herself physically as far from him as she could.

"At the very least, you could tell me why you are so upset."

"The great Gallifreyan intellect can't figure it out, huh? Let me give you a clue about Earth women. We don't like having our noses rubbed in our men's flirtations. Especially with the type of woman that is so obviously interested!"

The Master gazed at her for a long moment, taking her words and adding them to the actions he took to get information and obtain their spoils. "You're upset because I used whatever means were necessary to get what we came all the way out here for?"

"You could have found another way," she reasoned. "Or at least not had me there to witness your ogling her."

"Ogling?" he questioned with a frown. "I wasn't ogling anyone!"

Reggie, having heard his share of arguments between the Master and Dr. Langford, acted to protect himself and immediately put up the partition between the front and back seats. If he didn't hear the argument, he wouldn't be forced to take a side.

Peri saw the partition go up. "Oh yeah? Then why is Reggie putting up the partition? You don't think that just screams that I'm right?"

"He's putting it up so that he won't have to listen to your false accusations," the Time Lord countered.

"My false accusations! What was that 'gorgeous woman like you' stuff? Was that all necessary?"

"What's wrong with that? She is attractive, after all. And it's a pity that she doesn't have a sense of humor..." He thought about his initial conclusions to the expression he had seen on her face at the time. "I was right! You're jealous! I've never encountered a jealous woman before. So this is what they mean by the term 'green-eyed monster.' Or blue-eyed monster, in this case..."

Her eyes narrowed almost to slits. "Oh... she's 'gorgeous' and I'm a monster! I can't believe you just said that!"

_How did a simple act of schmoozing for information lead to this? _the Master wondered with growing disconcertion. He could already tell that he was digging himself into far deeper a hole than he was already in... and he didn't even know how he got into the hole in the first place! If the expression on Peri's face was anything to go by, he knew that he was about to be on the receiving end of one hell of a punch in the nose. "That didn't come out the way I had intended," he tried. "Of course, you aren't a monster. I'm just extremely flattered that I can get you jealous."

"You did that on purpose!" she said, suddenly sniffling as tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Harry. How could you!"

He sighed in frustration. He was approaching the second mantle of the Earth now with the increased digging. Why did relationships have to be so complicated? If it weren't for the fact that being without her on the high points of this existence was absolute agony for him, he would be tossing her from the moving car. If it were any other human, that is. And he didn't think it would be wise to ask her if she were menstruating like he did the last time she was in this state. That had resulted in an icepack on his male equivalent. He was going to have to do something to prevent any further damage before it became... damaging. Slowly... and extremely cautiously... he slid closer to her. "Peri..." he started. Reaching over, he took her hand. "My Peri... I'm... I'm... sssssorry." Even after over a year of being in a relationship with her, that particular word was difficult to say, especially when he had nothing to be sorry for.

The tears had started to fall from her eyes. "Really? You mean that?" she asked looking over to him with small glances.

"Of course, I do. I love you. I never wanted to hurt you, even inadvertently... unless you want me too," he told her. At least there was a truth in that statement. He leaned forward and started to gently kiss her tears away. "None of that, now. It was a silly thing back there and it was only to get what we were after. I had no idea that you would be so affected."

Peri felt the kisses on her face and between his words and actions, was soon kissing him back intensely. As she pulled closer to him, her voice was a virtual purr. "I accept your apology." With those words, she started to kiss his neck as her hands began to explore. "Just don't do that again. Otherwise, I might have to kill the little vixen."

"Ooo... promises, promises," he replied with a grin, the thought of her actually killing to keep him an aphrodisiac to him. "Might have to do it again when it isn't something important." He looked into her eyes. "You know how I enjoy watching you work." With that, he forced his lips against hers, shifting so that he had her pinned against the door. "Perhaps I'll even get that drill you've been eyeing to make that work even more pleasurable."

At those words, she became even more amorous. Her purrs became louder as the two of them began to divest each other of the hindrances in their attentions.

Reggie had decided that perhaps he'd venture a look, just to make sure they weren't killing each other. The small glance he took told him the opposite was about to occur. Turning back abruptly, he told the driver, "Keep your eyes on the road."

The driver, having been Saxon's chauffeur for a while at this point, didn't question the instruction, instead pointing out to Reggie the kangaroo in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Project Quantum Leap_

_March 2010_

For the last few hours, Jack had been monitoring the leap from the Control Room, amused by Ziggy's indications of what was happening at the museum. Al, in the meantime, had gone to check the Salmit circuit which was acting up in the radium ring. Ziggy had suggested that based on its readouts, she wasn't going to be responsible if she couldn't contact Dr. Beckett. Finally, the computer became quiet in its updates of the great museum heist, as Jack had referred to it. "Hey, Ziggy. Everything okay?" the ex-Time Agent asked.

The voice of the computer answered, "Based on what happened to my tracking abilities the last time Dr. Beckett left the planet, I surmise he is no longer in any time or place on Earth. I assume that means that the TARDIS is moving again outside those parameters."

"That's what I thought," Jack answered cryptically. "Gooshie, keep monitoring in case they come back. I'm going to go see Rose." He immediately headed towards the Waiting Room. Swiping his hand across the lock, the door opened and he walked in, smiling at the young woman crossed with a man's aura sitting on the bed. "Hope you aren't too bored."

"I've been catching up on some movies," Rose answered.

Jack nodded. "Have you seen the 'Lord of the Rings' series? Pretty damn good."

"Twice already," she told him, leaning back against the wall behind her. It was clearly obvious from the look on her face that movies were the farthest thing from her mind, despite having been watching whole marathons of the entertainment form.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jack asked kindly.

She gave him a weak smile. "Just thinking of how this Sam Beckett guy is out there traveling with the Doctor and I'm stuck here. I mean... there's only so many movies and chips and Diet Coke you can take. And I don't even have my mobile. Can't even call my mum and let her know that I'm okay..." She paused at her own words. "Oh, gawd! Mum... I've been so preoccupied with being in this place, I didn't even stop and think..."

Jack looked down. "You won't be able to talk with your mum anymore, Rose."

She ran the tip of her fingers through her hair in a vain attempt to straighten it, even though it didn't need it. "I know. I remember," she murmured. "She's in a whole different universe. But..." She frowned, looking at Jack. "How'd you know?"

"The Doctor told me."

She turned from him, pulling her legs up to her chest. "I suppose he told you about my dad, too. And Mickey."

"Yeah. From what he said, there's no way to reopen the link. I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry you'll never see your family again."

"Yeah. Well... I made my choice. I told the Doctor I'd never leave him." She suddenly seemed very angry. "And I wouldn't have if this Doctor Beckett hadn't knocked me out of my... my... aura! What the hell is taking so long for him to get out of my life?"

Jack shook his head. "That's just the way this leaping works. They don't control the leaping. He'll leap out when he's completed what needs to be done."

"And how long has it been? Three weeks?"

"Closer to four. The good news is that the Doctor finally picked up Sam. They're not in ancient Egypt anymore."

"Well, goodie for Sam," she muttered, clearly not impressed with the news.

He went over and put his arm around her shoulders. "Rose, I know this sucks. Just know that you'll be back with the Doctor eventually. I don't think it's in his plans to travel with Sam for long."

"It's been four weeks and I've gotten nothing from him," she told him bluntly. "I mean, he can travel anywhere through time and space and he doesn't even drop in to say hello." She glared at her friend. "As for you, you're a bit of rubbish, aren't you?"

"What?" Jack asked, somewhat taken aback.

"I mean, what are you doing on this end to try to correct this? And don't give me that story about how some external unknown force is sending this Sam Beckett into other people's lives."

"I can't help it if that's true, Rose."

"Well, at the very least you can use your obvious influence to let me out for some fresh air. What harm would it do?" She stood up and turned towards him. "Jack, if I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to go barmy."

Jack sighed. "You already have the run of the project."

"Have you ever gone four weeks without seeing a stranger? Or a tree? I may be able to go practically anywhere in this... place... but..." She took a breath. "Oh, Jack, you've been out there. Could you just sit still in a single place, not see the sun for four weeks?"

"I've done that, Rose."

"Okay. Fine. But I've been here so long, I know everyone's favorite alcoholic drink!"

"Really?"

"Yours is 'Sex on a Beach'," she told him. "You like it for the name, not the drink itself 'cause you find it too sweet. Admiral Calavicci prefers bourbon but only drinks on special occasions. Gooshie likes Amaretto Sunrises 'cause he actually_ likes_ the sweet drinks. Tina's a wild woman and likes pepper tequila in shots with lime and salt. Dr. Beeks likes rum and Coke. Sammie Jo likes Fuzzy Navels 'cause she likes peaches. And Brenda in Records likes Pina Coladas. And that's just to start."

Jack blinked for a moment, plainly impressed. "Wow. Being with the Doctor's really made you observant. Not that you weren't before..." He then changed the subject abruptly to address her concerns. "You should know that no one's seen Dr. Beckett for over fifteen years. If you leave this place, people might recognize him."

"I'm not asking for a trip to the heart of London where I'll dance the Tarantella in front of a million people. I just want to go to a park or something. Just get out and lay on the grass or... something."

Jack shrugged. "Not much grass up top. Mostly sage brush and desert plants."

"It's still better than white walls everywhere, isn't it?"

Nodding, Jack made his decision. "Okay. An outing, but we'll make it a fun one. If you could see one thing in America, what would it be?"

"Anywhere in the entire United States?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah. I think that would work. One trip. Where do you want to go?"

Rose bit her lip mischievously. "Honolulu?"

Jack tilted his head. "Bit of a time lapse there but I think we can do that."

"You're not going to get in trouble for it, are you? I mean, we could go to Los Angeles or New York."

"Me? In trouble?" His look told her he thought she was looking for trouble.

"In a heartbeat, Jack Harkness. You were born for trouble." She grinned slightly, her tongue between her teeth.

"Well... yeah. What's the fun in playing it safe?"

She seemed to consider his answer for a moment before leaning forward, her eyes focused on his. "So, how short a trip? Couple of days?"

Jack smiled. "Up to you. We can take a week... maybe two."

Rose laughed. "You are _so _going to get in trouble," she taunted him.

Jack grinned at her. "It's good to be the boss."

She giggled again at his words. "Yeah. I think I could possibly put up with a week on a tropical island. Even with you."

Smiling, Jack gave her a look up and down. "I wonder if auras tan. Sam looks like he could use some sun."

"Oh, yeah," she said, suddenly reminded about looking like Sam. "Or if I can tan with this aura around me." She frowned. "You know, it's weird. I look at my hand and I see my hand but, when I look in the mirror..." She bit her lip again. "Tell you what, though. I'll be the only girl on the beach topless."

"Yeah," Jack commented, his eyes skimming her form again as he thought about seeing Rose bare-chested.

"Oi!" Rose warned him. "You behave yourself. I know you can see both auras so you just... ignore them both and focus on your own tan."

"Oh, you're no fun," he teased, garnering a glare from her. He put his hands up. "Okay, okay." He paused to consider. "I wonder if there are any nude beaches. I so hate tan lines."

"On you or on me?" she questioned with a mischievous grin.

"Both," he answered honestly and with a bit of lechery.

She slapped him playfully on his arm. "So... when do we leave?"

"I'm thinking tomorrow. That work for you?"

She tilted her head as if seriously considering his suggestion. "I don't know. I'll have to check my day planner. Hmm... Yeah. I could do tomorrow. I could do this second."

"Well, I suggest we get you some appropriate clothes to wear."

She fingered the Fermisuit she was wearing. "Not in fashion, I take it."

"No. Although, I think if he had worn it at the right place, he could have started a craze. Doesn't leave much to the imagination."

"This?" she questioned as if he'd lost his mind.

"Yeah. I know some... friends that would have really..." For a second, he could almost hear the Doctor's response. "Oh, never mind. But I was thinking about Sam's wardrobe. He hasn't even been back since 1999 and even then his clothes were from 1995 at the earliest. I'm thinking shopping. Of course, we'll have to borrow from his closet while we are out. Perhaps jeans and a shirt would work. Anything else though, we're getting new." He looked her over with a critical eye. "You'll need to wear sunglasses and a baseball cap. Hopefully, no one will recognize you."

She raised an eyebrow, following him through the now open Waiting Room door. "What? Afraid of paparazzi?"

"Actually, yes, sort of. I told you, Dr. Beckett hasn't been seen since 1995 by the general public and hardly more than that in the project. I'm hoping nobody recognizes you... um... him... um... you know what I mean."

"And he's that famous?"

"He was on the cover of Time. Absolute genius, called 'the next Einstein.' "

"So, famous," Rose concluded. "Well, then... just have to be a little careful. Where is his closet anyway?"

Jack smiled. "We'll ask Al." He went to the Control Room, Rose following.

As they walked in, Gooshie turned to them. "Oh, hello, Miss Rose."

Rose smiled gently at the older man. While his breath could knock down the nearest wall, he was a gentleman in every sense of the word. "Hi, Gooshie."

Jack then asked, "Hey, Gooshie, where's Al? Has he gone home yet?"

"The last I heard, Captain, he was still examining the Salmit circuit." He grimaced slightly. "He didn't seem to be in a very good mood about it either."

"Yeah... Beth or a Salmit circuit. I know which I'd choose."

"The Salmit circuit?" Rose teased.

"You've definitely been in that room too long," Jack answered quickly, smiling.

"Well... depends on what kind of trouble you can get into with a Salmit circuit, whatever that is."

"Could be painful... not that that's a problem if you're with the right person."

"And I bet you would know all about that."

"Umm..." Gooshie put in, clearly looking uncomfortable with the conversation. "Perhaps you should discuss this at another time?"

"We could and we might," Jack responded, giving Rose a wink, causing her to duck her head to prevent herself from laughing out loud. "Anyway... we need to find Al."

"What do you need me for?" the man in question asked as he walked into the Control Room. His face and coveralls were covered in dust and grime, as if he'd been crawling in a tight space. He looked at Jack. "We're going to need an extra five thousand dollars."

"For a Salmit circuit?" Jack questioned with a frown.

"Yeah. This one has passed its expected lifecycle two years ago. We'd named it the 'Bunny' 'cause it kept going and going. I guess Elmer Fudd decided to shoot the wabbit."

"Poor wabbit," Rose commented.

Jack sighed. "The budget's tight as it is. I'm afraid some creative accounting is in order, especially since I just gave you a raise only a month ago."

Al shrugged. "Easy come, easy go." He turned to Gooshie. "Order one immediately. I'll make sure the funds are there to cover the invoice."

"Hard come, easy go," Jack corrected. He frowned for a moment and then decided to let the rather raunchy thought that came to his mind to go unspoken. Instead, he decided to get to the point of their quest. "Hey, we need your help, Al. Where are Sam's quarters?"

Al frowned, looking at Jack, then at Rose, before returning his gaze to his boss. "Why do you want to know?"

"Need a pair of jeans... and a shirt. Shoes would be good too, maybe boots." He looked at Rose and then his face lit up. "Maybe a cowboy hat." He turned back to Al. "Did Sam wear cowboy hats?"

"Umm... yeah. Not often but...yeah. But I thought we agreed that Rose should stay in the Fermisuit. Just in case."

"Well, I've decided a little reprieve is in order."

"What kind of reprieve?" the Admiral questioned with suspicion, not liking the look on Jack's face.

Jack didn't fully answer that question... yet. "Nothing much. Just an outing. Sam's not going to be showing for a few days so I figured Rose needs a chance to get some fresh air."

"How can you be so sure?" Al protested. "We never know when he's going to leap, Jack. You've read the reports."

Jack shook his head. "Nope. Not going to happen. They've left the planet."

Al paused for a moment and then continued as he thought of a potential scenario. "What if Sam leaps out while offworld? There's nothing in the rules that says that isn't possible!"

"Well... I can't be sure that the sun's not going to go supernova either but I'm willing to bet it doesn't." He looked Al directly in the eyes. "Listen, you're going to have to trust me on this. I'm sure that Sam will not be leaping and I'm going to take Rose out for a bit."

The Admiral hesitated for a long moment. He had put his faith in Jack a lot since the Doctor came into their lives. While he wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, he had to admit that, in spite of everything, Jack seemed to have a grasp of each situation even when he didn't fully explain his reasons. He sighed. "Fine. Just stick with the clothes, all right? Bad enough you have to go and violate his privacy." He reluctantly gave directions to Sam's quarters before pausing in thought. "Why would you need a hat?"

"Can't afford to have people recognize him," Jack tossed back, continuing to head out the door towards his quarters with Rose.

"What do you mean you can't afford to have people recognizing him?" Al demanded, following at a march. "This isn't going to be just a step out of the complex for a picnic in the desert, is it? Jack... what are you doing?"

"Well… Sam's wardrobe I'm sure is _really _out of date, and based on which clothes he picks from Rose's wardrobe, I bet he's not as fashionable as you and me."

"That's true," Al conceded.

"So, we're going shopping to get Rose some new duds."

"Shopping?!" Al yelled. "You can't go out shopping! What would you want to go shopping for?"

"Need a better wardrobe for our trip," Rose told him over her shoulder.

"Trip?! What trip?!"

"We're going to Hawaii."

"_What?!___You can't go to Hawaii!"

"Why not? Last time I checked, there were still flights going back and forth to that state," Jack stated.

"To all of the islands, actually," Rose corrected. "I'm thinking Oahu first. Then the Big Island."

"Oahu? Big Island?" Al stammered. "But... he'll be recognized! I mean, she'll be... Sam's family lives in Hawaii! What if you run into them?"

Jack frowned. "Hmm... that puts a small glitch in the works." He turned to Rose. "How about the Caribbean?"

"That works too. The Virgin Islands?"

Jack nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Virgin Islands?!" Al exclaimed, hurrying to block their path. "Neither of you are going anywhere, much less the Virgin Islands!"

Jack looked at Al sternly. "Last time I checked, I was listed as the director of this project. I say we're going and we're going. You got that?"

Al lowered his eyelids. "Or what?"

Rose leaned towards him. "I wouldn't push him if I were you."

"Or I could stop funding," Jack stated, even though he had no intention in following up on the threat.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," Al huffed a laugh. "You'd never cut funding, though I still don't know where you get it or why you're keeping us funded. But since you threatened... Just... please, don't be gone too long. I mean, Sam really could leap any minute and..." He ran his hand over his face.

"Al. If I really thought this would be a problem, I wouldn't do it."

"So, how long will you be gone? A few days? Maybe a weekend?"

"Weekend isn't long enough. The jet lag's going to be horrific going to the Caribbean."

"Okay, then... a week?"

"Well, that's hardly long enough. We need time to actually travel to where we're going. And then a week or so for the sights..."

Rose added with a grin, "And that's not counting the time it takes to perfect a tan... without any lines."

"Two weeks?" Al asked weakly.

"It'll fly by, Al. I promise." When he could see the man wasn't convinced, he continued. "Rose has been cooped up here for four weeks. That's just too long in one place. It's really a good idea, Al, once you get used to it."

Al's gaze drifted over to Rose. Now that he thought about it, he could see that she was growing a bit pale in the skin and was hiding intense restlessness in her eyes. And he couldn't deny that Sam had never before spent so much time in one person's life. In addition, being able to see both Sam and Rose, he was again reminded of just how young she really was. His thoughts drifted to his daughters and how he would feel if one of them had to spend four weeks in an underground facility. "You're right. Four weeks is too damn long." He went over to Rose and took her hands. "You just be careful. Okay? And I'm not saying this for Sam's sake but for yours. I care about you, you know."

Jack looked at him. "We're just going to Albuquerque for shopping, at least for now. Maybe Sante Fe. Great stuff on the plaza, especially if you like southwestern." He looked at Al. "I think that rugged look would be fantastic on Sam, don't you?"

Al pinched at his nose. "Jack. She needs to keep Sam incognito, not get him onto the pages of GQ."

Rose grimaced slightly at Jack's suggestion. "Besides... I hate southwestern."

Jack's eyes rose. "How can you hate southwestern? The vests, the hats, the western cut shirts, those tight jeans..."

"Maybe on you, Jack, but never ever on me. No matter whose aura is surrounding me."

He let out a sigh. "Okay. Then the mall in Albuquerque should be adequate."

"Now, I didn't say we couldn't look," she protested.

Jack's face lit up. "Right! And maybe you could try a few things on for me. I'm going to need to take something back for Ianto when I leave." He looked off to the distance a bit as if imagining something. "Leather and fringe."

"Yes to the leather, no to the fringe."

"You two are going to be the death of me," Al bemoaned as he watched the two walked away in the direction of Sam's apartment. "I can already feel my blood pressure going up."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Prometheus Institute_

_Melbourne, Australia_

_October 2008_

There were many concessions that Lothos had allowed the Master as a gesture of goodwill towards their partnership. Obedience from all personnel was just one of them. Freedom to move throughout the complex was another. A third was the private use of one of the many labs in the complex. It was to this lab that the Master had Reggie take the meteorite for study while he tended to some "private affairs." Said affairs went far into the night, apparently, as the assistant didn't hear from either the Master or Dr. Langford until the next morning.

The Master walked into his office, a broad grin on his face as he sat down and leaned back. "Beautiful day, isn't it, Reginald?" he asked as the timid looking man brought in his morning tea.

"Yes, sir," came the automatic response. "A message from Dr. Langford, sir. She requests that you join her in the lab as soon as you are available."

"She's quick on her feet this morning," the Time Lord commented, taking a drink of his tea - perfect as always - before standing. "I suppose I shouldn't keep her waiting." He shook his head. "Women are so complicated, Reggie. I still don't understand why she got so upset yesterday."

"It was pretty obvious, sir." Seeing a frown set upon his boss' face, he amended, "To Earth men, sir. After all, we've had lots of experience since the Garden of Eden."

"If you believe in that sort of thing."

"Whether it was a real place or not... the point is, we've had a lot of experience with dealing with the female gender. They are logically illogical, calmly emotional, and kindly vicious."

"All oxymorons."

"Exactly. That is the female condition... except when it's not."

The Gallifreyan rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I think I should have taken up a pet instead of have fallen in love." He gave Reggie a noticeable look. "Don't go spreading that, though. I really would prefer not calling you for an icepack again."

"Quite right, sir. You are learning."

"Well, I am a genius," he countered, finishing his tea. Taking a breath, he grinned. "Have to admit, though... the argument was definitely worth the aftermath."

"That is another of the great mysteries of Earth women," Reggie admitted without actually pointing out that he knew the two had engaged in makeup sex.

"I better not keep her waiting. She's enough of an enigma as it is," the Master said, a grin on his face. He started for the door. "Inform Dr. Langford that I am on my way." Strolling through the corridors, he made his way down to his lab, knowing that the woman who had caught his affection was already hard at work in trying to find out exactly why the extraterrestrial rock fascinated the Time Lord so much. There was something more than different about it, something ancient. Something he could taste and feel with his remarkable senses. It didn't hurt that those nuggets were irradiated with whatever energy that meteorite was giving off, imbuing them with almost Gallifreyan attributes. "Anything?" he questioned as he approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, deliberately disturbing her concentration.

She leaned into his embrace. "Mmmm," she hummed, fitting herself perfectly along his body. "Last night was... spectacular."

"I agree but I was referring to our rock," he murmured to her, kissing her temple as he did so.

Pulling herself back to her task with a sardonic look at him, she moved away. "Oh." Disappointment dripped from that word. "I mean, yes, this is an out of the ordinary meteorite but none of the tests I've done have been conclusive."

Hearing the disappointment in her voice, he sighed mentally. Figuring that she was being moody again - he was now convinced that she was indeed close to her menstruation cycle - he decided to ignore the tone and focus on the object before them. "There's something about this rock, Peri. I can feel it," he said, following her. "It's making serious waves in time. Have you tested a sample yet?"

She bit at her lip. "I'm finding it hard to even obtain a sample. A diamond drill doesn't even cut into it."

He looked at her with surprise. "Really?" He moved around the table to get a closer look at it. "Have you tried running it through a spectrometer?"

"Well, I would have if I could get a small enough sample," she answered, frustrated.

"Oh, but you're brilliant. I know you can figure something out." Standing upright again, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "I wonder..." Aiming the device at the rock, he activated it, gaining no success with the rock. Growling under his breath, he gave the meteorite a glare. "What are you?"

Suddenly, a glow began to emit from the meteorite from the area that the sonic screwdriver had been aimed at. It brightened noticeably for several seconds before the glow slowly died away, leaving the surface looking as it had before.

He blinked for a moment before adding a frown to his visage. "What was that? Meteorites just don't glow on their own. It must be sonic sensitive... which means that if I adjust the frequency..." He made a couple of adjustments to his screwdriver before aiming it at the rock once again and activating the device for several seconds. After a long moment, a sliver fell off of the meteorite and onto the lab table, gaining a broad grin from the Time Lord. "Tada!" he sang, as if he had just performed a magic trick.

Peri smiled. "I want one of those."

"I'll make you one someday. Right now, I want to see what this thing is," he told her. "Where's that spectrometer?" He carefully gathered the fragment using a pair of tweezers.

She pointed over to a lab bench. "There."

The Master opened the spectrometer's chamber and put the sliver on the sample site. Closing the chamber door, he started the scan. A few moments later, it was clear that nothing was reading from it. "Damn! What I wouldn't give for a _perzadameti_ right now."

"A what?" Peri asked, unfamiliar with the word.

"It's a Time Lord instrument. Basically a scanning device used in research. If I had one, I could scan this thing, find out exactly what it is and why it's sonic sensitive." He sighed. "But the closest one is on my home world on the other side of the galaxy."

Peri considered his dilemma. "Well, I don't know how we'd get you one of those." She paused. "But perhaps some other alien equipment could help you. Lothos has taken most of what had been found here for his personal use, but there is a room with unidentified items. Perhaps something is in there?"

The Master raised his eyes to her and gave her a wide smile. He ran around the table and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her passionately. "See? I told you, you are brilliant! There has to be something of some use there." Grabbing her hand, he marched out of the door of the lab, forcing her to hurry to keep up with him. "Where is this room?"

"It's on Level Six. Just because they didn't know what to do with them didn't mean they wanted them available to anyone."

"Well, then... it's a good thing that I'm not just anyone," he replied with a mischievous grin. "Show me."

The scientist guided the Time Lord through the corridors and into a room two levels up. As the Master looked around, he frowned. The storage room was filled with a variety of miscellaneous things, most of them of no scientific value whatsoever. There were at least three toys that he could see and many other items turned out to be ordinary household tools. His nose wrinkled slightly as his frustration grew.

Peri sighed, seeing his distain at the items in the room. "I'm sorry that there wasn't anything here to help, Harry."

"Don't instantly assume, Peri. I'm not done looking!" he rebuked her with a little heat. Turning his head, he froze, his eyes widening manically. "Oh, you're beautiful!" he exclaimed, reaching up to grab an item off of a shelf. "Ask and you shall receive!"

Seeing his face light up, Peri's did as well. "This will help you?"

"More than that," he told her, admiration in his voice. "It's exactly what I wanted in the first place. A _perzadameti_. And in good working order, too from what I can see," he said as he examined it. "Other than being very dirty, that is." He looked at Peri pointedly. "Not a word to Lothos or anyone else about this. I don't want my people's technology in the hands of human imbeciles."

"I take it you don't see _me _that way," she commented with a gleam in her eye.

He gently touched her cheek. "Never," he assured before bolting out of the room. Getting back into the lift, the two of them went back to the lab, where the Master quickly brushed the dust off of the Gallifreyan instrument and set it on the worktable. Taking the meteorite sliver, he gently placed it in the hexagonally shaped ring before pressing several buttons on it. "They probably thought this was some sort of ceremonial headwear," he grumbled to himself. Several seconds later, thick beams of light came from each corner and converged together, forming a domed hologram. A myriad of symbols seemed to scrawl through the hologram at a rapid pace. "Impossible," he whispered, astonishment in his voice.

Seeing the symbols similar to the ones he wrote in the book he kept in his office, she asked, "What is it?"

"It's an Eye!" he exclaimed.

"An eye? What do you mean? It can see us?"

He grinned at her question. "Not a real eye, my dear. Eye is the word my people use for a highly condensed, stable black hole – so condensed that it's solid. But the only one in existence is the Eye of Harmony." His brown orbs darkened. "The same anomaly that the Doctor condemned me to before your people rescued me."

She looked at the object with trepidation. "If it's a black hole, why isn't it sucking everything around it, including us, into its gravitational field?" She paused as his words penetrated. "You were in a black hole? Then how did we pull you out? That should have been impossible."

"It's been stabilized to be a power source. And to be quite honest... I don't know how you were able to pull me out. I shouldn't have even survived. Maybe it has to do with the same reason this Eye isn't pulling us in, since the Eye of Harmony is also stabilized." He gazed at the readings once again. "But there's something else about this Eye. It's negatively charged."

"From the way you say that, I take it that's unexpected." She knew, physicist or not, she was way out of her league when it came to this object.

"Unexpected isn't the word. It means it's made from anti-matter. This shouldn't even exist! How did it get here? It so plainly came from a negative universe. The moment it arrived in this one, it should have caused a Biblical Armageddon."

Peri licked at her lips. "These eyes... you say they're stabilized? Maybe that has something to do with why they exist like they do." She was grasping at straws but this line of thought seemed reasonable to her.

He gave her a grin. "I keep telling you and you keep disagreeing with me. You're amazing! I can't believe that I didn't realize that myself. The stabilization is allowing this to exist in this universe. Still doesn't explain how it could exist, though. The Eye of Harmony was created; it didn't form naturally. Which means, someone made this Eye." He turned off the _perzadameti_ and picked up the sliver with his bare hand. "I heard rumors that Omega had somehow survived the explosion that created the Eye of Harmony but I didn't really believe them until now. He must have been thrust into an anti-matter universe. And he created this Eye, which has somehow come into our universe."

"This Omega was a Gallifreyan, I assume."

"He was one of the founders of our society, in fact. Without him and Rassilon, I wouldn't be a Time Lord. I'd be a... well, I don't know what I would be. What is a Time Lord if he can't control time?" He grimaced at the thought, not liking the idea that, if Rassilon and Omega hadn't created their society, his people would have been stuck on Gallifrey, feeling time and regenerating but being unable to show their greatness. Even non-Time Lord Gallifreyans benefited from Rassilon's foresight, able to gain the reward of Endowment if they proved their worth. The grimace slowly faded as his eyes widened. "Oh, that's it... That's it!" He laughed giddily, running around the table several times before pulling Peri into his arms, swinging her around before setting her down again and then kissing her.

Peri laughed. "You know, you really are incorrigible sometimes. I think that's why I love you so much."

"I know that's why you love me. Because I'm just like you!" he affirmed. "And you, my beautiful Periwinkle, are going to be just like me!"

"What do you mean?"

He cupped her face with his hands. "I told you that I would find a way to make you a Time Lord. I found it."

"Me? A Time Lord? That's impossible... I'm human," she breathed.

"Not impossible. Just highly improbably unless you have the right tools. I had a human body when I fell into the Eye of Harmony and look at me now. I'm fully Time Lord again." He turned her face towards the meteorite. "And we have an Eye now. With time, the right calculations, and the right equipment, I can make an Endowment Chamber. That must be why I'm a Time Lord once again. Because I was in the Eye of Harmony. If we put you in this Eye... under much more controlled conditions..." He looked at her face while her eyes remained fixed on the meteorite. "I am going to make you a goddess. Marry me," he ordered.

Until she heard the words, she didn't know that was what she most wanted to hear. Yet, at the same time, she was unsure he meant them. "Marry you? Like in husband and wife marry?"

"No, like in goat and sheep," he replied with a hint of sarcasm. "What other definition of 'marry' do you have?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Cute. Very cute." She paused. "It's just that I wasn't sure a Time Lord would find the idea of joining like that as... desirable."

"We procreate like all other species in the universe. And haven't I shown you just how much you mean to me? I murdered for you... multiple times... Periwinkle Langford. What more proof do you want?"

"I... I..." she started and then grabbed him in an embrace, "...I didn't need proof but this is more than I ever expected." Pulling away, she smiled at him. "If we're both Time Lords, we'll be together forever."

"Just like I promised," he replied, his eyes gleaming. "So... is that a yes, Dr. Langford?"

The passionate kiss he received was all the answer he needed.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Project Quantum Leap_

_March 2010_

Rose, upon seeing Sam's wardrobe, had agreed with Jack. Sam's taste of clothing was boring. Well, everything except the tuxedo neatly tucked into a corner of his closet. As it was, she slipped on a pair of jeans, a plain t-shirt, and the cowboy boots and hat that Jack absolutely insisted that she wear. She felt utterly ridiculous in the clothes but at least it wasn't the Fermisuit. Jack had obtained a car and they had left the project, the sagebrush and desert rushing by as he drove. Having never been in the United States in her entire life, the trip to the city was a unique adventure. It was a good four hours before their shopping was done after which, having grabbed a bite to eat on the way, they returned to the complex to make appropriate travel arrangements and to pack. Following dinner at the Calavicci's and a good night's sleep, they were ready to leave, Jack having made sure that their tickets were available for pickup at the airport.

Al still wasn't sure this was really a good idea. "What if something happens to you while you're gone?" he asked, hoping to change their minds.

"Don't worry, Al," Rose answered with a smile. "Captain Jack will watch over me. Probably even when I don't want him to and when it isn't in the least bit appropriate."

"I'll be a perfect gentleman." At the looks given him, he amended. "Well, I'll try." The looks still weren't convincing. "Cross my heart and hope to die," he said once more doing the motion with his finger across the left side of his chest.

"I suppose that's something," Al commented. "Okay, okay. Have fun, you two. And I want her in bed before midnight every night."

"Oh, you're no fun," Rose protested jokingly.

Jack laughed at Al's statement. "Okay, Papa Bear. I promise I'll be a good chaperone."

"That's what I'm afraid of!" Al called to him as the two left in the elevator. Shaking his head slightly, he sighed before turning to return to the Control Room. He didn't know why but every time Jack made any kind of assurances, he always got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was bound to go wrong. Not horribly wrong... just enough to make his own life that much more miserable. He looked around the room that was the heart of the project and decided that, since Sam hadn't made a reappearance and there wasn't much for him to do at the moment, he didn't really want to stay. According to Ziggy, Sam was off planet... and this time for God knew how long.

"I'm going home to Beth," he told Gooshie. "Call me if Sam shows up again." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe she'll give me one of her famous neck rubs," he murmured to himself, hoping to somehow find some solace out of the mayhem his life had become. He really hoped that Jack was right on this one. He didn't want to think of the consequences if he was wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The last working TARDIS moved erratically through the vortex. Two of its inhabitants found that fact thrilling. The other found himself queasy from the constant movement. Sam lifted his head from the console as the ship made a clunk upon landing, only barely hanging on as he did so. Glad and the Doctor laughed as they landed on their butts, clearly joyous from the journey.

Turning his head to see Sam's reaction, however, the Time Lord's face dipped slightly. "I gave you nausea pills, Sam. Why aren't you taking them?" he questioned.

"I did take them. As indicated by you - half a dose every six hours. But they make me irritable and jumpy. Between the two, I'll take nauseated," Sam answered miserably.

"Suit yourself," the Gallifreyan told him as he pulled himself to his feet before helping Glad up.

"What would suit me is to have neither," Sam groused.

The Doctor grimaced with sympathy. "I suppose that last trip was a bit... bumpy."

"Bumpy is driving down a farm road in Indiana. "That was more... 'Mr. Toad's Wild Ride'...or maybe 'Space Mountain.'"

"I love Disneyland!" the Time Lord exclaimed. "Glad, remind me to take you to Disneyland some day. You'll love it!"

"I love it as well. Just not rides where you have no freaking idea which way the car's going to turn."

"Are these rides anything like a haywagon?" Glad asked, trying to put the statements in context.

"Well, it depends on the ride," answered the alien. "Some of them are like hayrides, like 'Mr. Toad's,' while others are like the TARDIS in a playful mood. Some are scary, some are funny..."

"If that's playful, I don't want to get on her bad side," the Earth physicist noted.

"This Disneyland sounds fun!" Glad looked over to Sam. "I'm going to make you some of my mother's special stomach tea. Be right back." Without further word, she ran off into the corridors towards the kitchen.

The Doctor grinned as he watched her leave. "She really is a jewel, isn't she? I'm so glad she came along. Just wait until she sees Dragons. Can't wait to see the look on her face."

"She does sort of grow on you," Sam agreed, having now fully become comfortable with the teenager. "I'm not even worried about going into a shopping district with her anymore."

"Not afraid she'll spend me out of house and TARDIS, eh?"

"If it hasn't happened in 900 years, I don't think she'll bring it about. Not that you ever have money on you. Learned that in Chicago. Besides, if you've collected all this stuff, I'd say you probably spent enough yourself that whatever Glad does is a drop in the bucket."

"Well... most of what I have were gifts or are TARDIS fabricated," the Doctor told him. "Still I do have my means of maintaining some financial stability of sorts even without a penny in my pocket."

"Yeah. I remember the ATM caper."

"Oi! It's not all ATMs."

"No. You probably hold up trains too."

"I may be strong but even Time Lords aren't strong enough to hold a train."

Sam's mouth turned up in a sarcastic smile. "Cute. Real cute."

"What?" the alien questioned. "Oh! That's a human phrase, isn't it? For... robbery! Samuel, I do not 'hold up' trains. That would be unethical!"

"Ethics seem to be a rather 'fluid' concept for you. All I'm saying is, I get a little nervous around you sometimes."

The Gallifreyan frowned slightly at his words. "Because I'll take from a machine when I need money but I won't use violence to commit blatant robbery of a moving locomotive? Besides... I like trains. Wanted to be a conductor once." He paused for a moment as his eyes widened. "Anti-venom!" he said abruptly.

Sam was about to comment on the Doctor's response when the alien suddenly changed the subject. "What?" the leaper said, trying to shift gears on the fly.

"We're going to Lastiarus right now to deliver Krazan's body to Her Royal Majesty."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, we need anti-venom."

"This planet is covered with blue goo? Doesn't sound like much fun."

The Doctor turned his head slightly. "No. Don't be so thick. What kind of world do you think the Dragons live on? It's perfectly habitable. Anyone can walk around outside. Perfect weather. Well... a little chilly but not bad. But, before we step out, we're all going to need to take a dose of the anti-vemon. Just in case one of the Dragons there gets a little nervous about having visitors. Wouldn't want any of us to shake hands and then have to be rushed to the hospital. That wouldn't be good."

"Oh," Sam answered. "That makes sense. That toxin isn't something to repeat if we can help it."

The Time Lord smiled at Sam's words. "Go find Glad and bring her back to the console room. I'm sure she'll have that tea ready for you by the time I get back," he instructed as he walked to the medical bay to retrieve the anti-toxin before returning to the console room. Seeing that Sam had brought the teenager back to the console room, and that they both were sipping on tea, he gave them a smile. "Enjoying your tea?"

Sam nodded. "Glad's got a knack for this kind of thing."

"Really? Guess I'll have to try her tea sometime then," the Doctor commented, giving the girl a wink before telling them. "Don't drink too much. In fact, it's probably a good idea if you put those to the side for a time. Not on the console, if you please."

Sam looked around the mostly empty room. "Then where do you suggest?"

"Put it in a corner or something. Just out of the way," the Time Lord told him as he placed the small box he was carrying on the console.

Shrugging, Sam took Glad's cup and his own and put it on the floor away from the console. He watched in amazement as the TARDIS enveloped them and the mugs disappeared. "That must be handy."

"What must be handy?" the Doctor questioned, his focus on the box in front of him as he opened it.

"Self-cleaning TARDIS."

The Gallifreyan shrugged slightly. "When she feels like it, she is."

"Why'd you make us stop drinking the tea?" Glad questioned with disappointment clear in her voice, having seen her mug vanish from sight.

"Because you are both going to become nauseous and I don't want you to be sicker than necessary," he replied as he took out a syringe.

"Oh, boy," Sam said, remembering how sick the anti-venom had made him feel before.

"I'm not going to get sick," the girl stated firmly. "I have excellent equalithium." She stiffened when she saw the object in the Doctor's hand. "That's a needle," she stated with trepidation. She couldn't help but think of what Sam had to do with the larger needle and hoped that this needle wasn't going to be jabbed into their chests.

"Equalibrium," the Time Lord corrected. "You have excellent equalibrium. Unfortunately, it isn't going to help in this instance."

"It won't?" She looked at the object in the Doctor's hand again. "Oh... that one's small. Still looks sort of dangerous, though." She swallowed slightly with disconcertion. "What are you going to do with it?"

The Doctor started to fill the needle with a dose of anti-toxin. "On Lastiarus, the inhabitants can be sort of... well... toxic if they get too emotional. Their toxin is deadly to humanoids... beings like you and me," he explained, seeing the frown on her face. "Now Sam and I have already been injected with anti-toxin which means that we only need a very small dose." He looked at her with sympathy. "But you haven't. So I have to give you a large dose to keep you from getting sick when we step out of the TARDIS."

Glad's eyes opened wide. "You're going to put that in my chest!"

Sam shook his head. "The Doctor doesn't need to do that. In the case of the gas, I had no choice."

She swallowed tightly. "Then where do you need to put it?"

"This is going to go into your arm," the Galllifreyan told her gently. "And I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry but it's going to hurt. It's going to burn and you are going to feel very ill for about thirty minutes."

"This is what I have to do to see the dragons you told me about?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered softly. "Without this, the moment you shake hands with an overly nervous Dragon, you would become so ill that you could die."

Glad thought about it for a moment and then put out her arm. "Okay."

The Doctor gave her a gentle smile. "We'll show you how it's injected first before we give you a dose. That way you can see what I'm going to do." He handed the slightly filled needle to Sam so that the human doctor could give him his injection before he took a second needle and returned the favor. In both cases, the two of them grimaced as the burning sensation flowed through their veins. It was worse for Sam though as, over the years, the Doctor had developed a tolerance for such things.

Sam went to sit down. "Almost like I feel when I'm on a roller coaster," the human said, his face pale and looking a little green. "Or traveling through the time vortex in the TARDIS." He appeared thoughtful. "You know, traveling unprotected because of Quantum Leap may leave me with Swiss-cheesed mind, but I can't say it's ever made me feel sick to my stomach."

The Doctor's visage seemed personally offended. "I can't help it if she's a little rickety. She is over two thousand years old. Give her a break!"

"I really don't think it's the TARDIS. I think it's the person operating the console."

"Oi!" the alien protested. "I'd like to see you... No... Wait... The last time I said that Romana figured it out on her own. Then again, she was a Time Lord."

Sam was going to answer but a wave of nausea hit him and he moaned instead.

The Gallifreyan grimaced in sympathy. "Maybe you should lie down for a moment."

Sam nodded before putting his head down on his arm against the console. This wasn't as bad as the first time, but still he felt ill. At least it didn't burn anymore.

Glad regarded Sam with some concern, obviously noticing the reaction he'd had to the medicine. "Doctor? Are you sure that I have to have that put in my arm? Sam doesn't look well at all."

"If you want to see Dragons you do. You could stay here in the TARDIS the entire time we're on Lastiarus," he replied as he rubbed the area where Sam had injected him. "Bloody hell, that stings."

Glad looked from the Doctor to Sam and back again. Both seemed to be having a reaction to the liquid that she didn't want to experience but the idea of staying behind in the TARDIS was the push she needed. Putting out her arm, she said bravely, "Okay. I'll do it."

"You're sure?" the Doctor asked as he filled a third needle with almost three times the amount he'd given to himself and Sam.

Glad looked at the needle. "Um... well... YES! Yes. I don't want to stay in the TARDIS and I want to see the Dragons." She said it in such a way that it was clear she was as much convincing herself this was what she wanted as trying to convince the Doctor.

"All right. If you're sure." She nodded once more and he lightly took her arm. "You'll feel a prick," he warned, before putting the needle in.

Sam gave her a weak smile, trying to ease her fears. "It's not bad in smaller doses." He closed his eyes, deciding that was the only way to keep the nauseous feeling at bay.

As the needle went into her arm, she reacted with an, "Ow! That hurts!"

"Sorry," the Time Lord murmured to her as he pushed down the depressor. "It's going to hurt a little but don't worry. We're right here." Slowly, he removed the needle from her arm, placing it on the tray with the other used instruments.

A moment later, the liquid flowing into her started to interact with her body. "It burns, Doctor. It's like a fire going into me." Tears had sprung to her eyes and now they fell, tracing tracks across her cheeks. As she shook her arm, trying to stop the pain, a sudden nausea joined in. She would have fallen to the floor if the Doctor hadn't caught her.

"Whoa!" he cautioned gently. "Easy there, dear girl." Seeing her face getting paler, he guided her towards the inner door. "It's okay," he murmured as he helped her into the closest bathroom.

Glad couldn't say anything as she felt her stomach revolt against the medicine in her blood stream, causing her to vomit into the toilet while the Doctor held her hair away from her face. She sobbed with a hint of panic, which came from her loss of control. Having emptied the contents of her stomach, she slumped to the floor, her sobs increasing while the Doctor flushed away the evidence of her pain before wetting a washcloth.

Slowly sitting beside her, he gently wiped her mouth and face clean before tossing the cloth into the tub behind them. Then, pulling her into a paternal embrace, he brushed her hair comfortingly with his free hand. "I know it hurts. I know. I'm sorry," the Gallifreyan whispered gently. "It'll get better. I promise."

"I know. You told me that before I agreed to this. I still want to go with you and Sam and see the Dragons..." She stopped suddenly as a cramp claimed her. With a moan, she rode through the wave of pain. Then catching her breath, she finished, "It just hurts so badly now and I want it to stop."

"Me too," he agreed quietly. He slowly moved his hand to her forehead. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he encouraged, his voice singing in her mind as well as in her ears.

Glad felt something - she wasn't sure what - changing within her. Where she had been filled with despair from the pain, she now felt a calmness moving in to take its place. She blinked as she looked into the worried eyes of the Doctor. Putting her hand to his face, she smiled lightly. "It's all right. I'm going to be all right." With a sigh, she closed her eyes and within moments was sleeping, if not peacefully then without the extensive pain.

The Doctor watched the girl, a little stunned by her reaction to his ministrations. On the rare occasions when he used his telepathic abilities to help someone into sleep, they would simply do that - sleep. But Glad got this expression on her face that seemed almost as if she were having a revelation of some sorts. And the tone she had used when speaking to him was almost as if as she were reassuring him of her eventual well-being. He smiled slightly as she shifted closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder. Whatever he had just witnessed with the teenager leaning on him, he knew one thing for certain. It was yet more proof that Galadriel was a unique young woman, one that deserved a better life than she would have had in Camelot. Carefully. he positioned her so she was supported by the tub as he stood. Then gently raising the girl into his arms, he carried her out of the bathroom, through the hall, and into her bedroom. Placing her softly on the bed, he removed her shoes and put them on the floor. He then pulled the sheets over her still form. Smiling as she shifted into a more comfortable position, he brushed her hair softly before placing a light kiss on her forehead. Exiting the room with the knowledge that his friend would have a chance to sleep off the side effects of the anti-toxin, he returned to the console room to see Sam sitting on the grated floor and leaning against one of the coral pillars.

"I see it's still not agreeing well with you," the Time Lord commented.

Sam shrugged, hearing the Doctor speaking to him, but not opening his eyes. "It's not as bad as before either so I guess I should count my blessings." He paused and then raised an eyelid slightly. "How's Glad? With as much as you gave her, I imagine she's having a pretty hard time."

"Yes, she is. Not a surprise, though. It's probably the first time her body has had anything other than homeopathic medicine."

Sam agreed with a grunt as if he didn't want to move more than he had to. "Yeah. I've got to admit, living in ancient Egypt gave me a greater appreciation of modern medicine. Making an analgesic almost got me branded as a witch."

"Probably should have taken the aspirin you are so fond of with you."

"I would have if I'd known I'd be there for over a month."

"Well, it didn't help that I don't keep any in the TARDIS."

"There's that too," Sam acknowledged. "So, what's the plan now that we're on Lastiarus?"

"We hand over Krazan's body to the authorities. I'm sure that Her Royal Majesty will appreciate the gesture, even if he was technically an escaped convict."

"Her Royal Majesty?"

"The Empress of Lastiarus," the Doctor replied, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.

Sam raised his eyebrows and grimaced at the movement. "Interesting... what more can you tell me about them?"

The Doctor frowned at his words. "About empresses? You do have kings and queens on Earth in the 21st century. Don't tell me that you don't know what an empress is."

"Of course, I know what an empress is. I'd just like a little more information about the Dragons. I mean, the only one I've met has been Krazan and I don't think he was a shining example of their species. Can you tell me a bit more about them?"

"Oh, Dragons. Well... they're... Dragons," the Gallifreyan replied. "Eight feet tall, wing-span of a small bedroom, bipedal..."

"Tell me something I don't know. Culture? Home world?"

"We've just landed on their home world, Sam. Lastiarus." Seeing the expression on his companion's face, he sighed. "You're the kind of person who buys the guidebook two weeks before going to Paris so you can plan every little aspect of your trip."

"Well, I do like to be prepared. History, culture, language, that type of thing." He gave the Doctor a half grin. "At least I did before I started leaping. Now, I'm usually just dropped into a situation and have to figure it out as I go. That can be a little... um... disconcerting to say the least."

"Oh, I think it's brilliant!" the Time Lord exclaimed. "Not knowing what's on the other side of those doors. Being scared and thrilled and completely surprised... I love it!"

"Yeah? Well, try being dropped into somebody else's life with their history and play to a role that you have no clue about. Then, it's not that fun being scared and completely surprised."

"Oh, I've been there. Once had to pretend to be a brilliant lyre player in Emperor Nero's palace. That really didn't go well. For one, the person I was impersonating was the best lyre player in the whole of the Roman Empire. For two... I can't play the lyre worth my life. Now, the organ..."

"Impersonating someone that people don't know too well is one thing. Try leaping into the aura of the person himself. It's not quite the same thing."

"Well, you've got a point there," the Doctor conceded. "I can honestly say that I've always looked like me, no matter how I've looked." He started for the door. "Come on. Can't keep Her Royal Majesty waiting, even if she doesn't know she's waiting."

"I'm not moving anywhere at this moment. Right now, it feels like my entire body would shatter into a million pieces if I did," Sam said with infinite patience in his voice.

The Doctor regarded him for a moment. "Oh," he commented. "Well... can't really blame you." He shifted from one foot to the other, obviously wanting to explore but knowing that Sam wasn't in the best condition to do so and remembering that he'd promised Glad that she could go with them. "I suppose I could get things prepared... for the transfer of Krazan's body." It was obvious from his words that it wasn't his first choice of activity.

Sam very slowly and shallowly nodded his head as if the mere change of position would cause his previously mentioned feeling to come true. "You do that." After saying his peace, he closed his eyes again and did his best to get through the situation in one piece.

"Right," the Time Lord stated plainly and then sniffed slightly. He looked at the front doors of the TARDIS for a moment before taking a deep breath, climbing over the boxed Dragon, and exiting the time ship to go into the planet's main city. It took him some time to get to the palace and to gain audience with the Royal Chief Protector. Once in the large Dragon's presence, he informed him of the body they had brought back to Lastiarus and where they could come to collect it. An hour and a half later, the body of Krazan had been carefully removed from the TARDIS entrance - the body having been stuck there gained quite a few glares towards the Time Lord - as well as all the secretions that had been collected. Thanking the Lastiarian Protectors, the Doctor exhaled with relief that he could finally get into his time ship without climbing over anything. Turning, he saw Sam sitting quietly on the jumpseat, somewhat worse for wear, but looking decided better than he had ninety minutes before.

"Feeling better?"

"I don't remember this feeling before," Sam said touching his lips. "I think I might be having a reaction to it this time. Lips are a bit numb. Maybe it's a sensitivity allergy or something."

The Doctor considered that. "Well, humans haven't been exposed to silphium for almost two thousand years. It's possible that could happen."

"Yeah," Sam said once more, moving his lower jaw as if trying to get feeling back after a dentist's visit.

At that very moment, the inner door opened and Glad, still barefoot from the Doctor removing her shoes, skipped in with a bright smile. "So... do we get to see the Dragons now?"

Sam stared at the girl who obviously felt fine. "You don't have a headache or anything?"

"Nope!" she chirped cheerily. She turned to the Doctor. "Can we go see the Dragons?"

The Doctor looked at her for a moment. "You don't have any shoes on," he noted haphazardly.

"Do I need shoes?"

"I would suggest it. Maybe something a little more airy. You look like you're about to go into the arctic in that outfit. And it's a bit warm out there."

"A bit airy?" she questioned with a frown. She looked down at herself for a moment. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

"I think he might be saying you'll be too warm in what you have on," Sam told her. "You might need to wear some lighter clothing. Like what I've got on."

"But you're wearing pantaloons. Girls don't wear pantaloons. They wear leotards. At least, that's what the Doctor gave me."

"I'm wearing jeans. They're unisex."

"What's unisex?"

"He means that either gender can wear jeans," the Doctor informed her.

She frowned. "But that's cross-dressing, isn't it? Like Boyne?"

"Not in the 21st century, it isn't," the Gallifreyan informed her. "And I think Sam is right. A pair of jeans or trousers would be most appropriate. Especially cotton."

"I'll help you pick something out, Glad."

She hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure? Those pantaloons don't look very comfortable, not like leotards."

"Oh, trust me. After wearing them, you won't want to wear anything else."

She glanced over at the Doctor who just gave her a smile. After a moment, she nodded. "Okay," she agreed. "As long as I won't look like I'm trying to dress as a man."

Sam smiled. "No. You won't look like that at all." He grew thoughtful. "You think that's what Rose's aura looks like? Like she's dressing like a man?"

"But you are a man. You just look like a girl. I just thought that the way you are dressed is normal for men where you come from. And... well... it's a little revealing and only a man is allowed that kind of... indiscretion."

"Indiscretion?" Sam looked down to make sure he was fully covered. "No wardrobe malfunctions here."

"Better watch it, Janet," the Doctor commented with a wry smile, looking at Sam. "Make sure there's no one named Justin nearby or there might be one. And I'd stay away from Jack as well, for that matter."

"Janet?" Glad questioned with a frown. "But he's Sam and he looks like Rose. Who's Janet? Isn't Jack one of your invisible friends?"

"Janet Jackson is an entertainer," Sam put in. "You know... like the people in the moving tapestries. The Doctor's just being cute… and failing miserably." The Time Lord shrugged a concession.

"Okay," Glad said, obviously still confused. "But what's a wardrobe malfunction and why wouldn't you want someone name Justin to be around?"

Sam pinched his nose. "It means..." he started but then backtracked, "...it's complicated."

She huffed. "That's always your answer when you don't want me to know something." She shook her head. "Well, whatever a wardrobe malfunction is, I'm sure that you can keep me from having one. So..." She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her as she headed towards the inner door.

Sam let out a sigh. "Okay," he said, following along, not that he had a choice.

The Doctor held back a chuckle as he watched the two leave the console room. One thing he could honestly say about Galadriel, she was definitely sharp as a tack.

_For the story of their visit to the Empress of Lastiarus, read "A Camelot Peasant in the Dragon's Court aka We're Off to See the Empress."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

After their audience with the Lastiarian Empress, the trio decided that they had plenty of time to enjoy a tour of the city. As they were sightseeing, Glad stopping every once in a while to look at the wares that were being sold but didn't ask to buy anything, much to Sam and the Doctor's surprise. As they exited one of the stores, an apparent off-world humanoid approached. He was yellow-skinned with flaming red hair and was wearing a white form-fitted jumpsuit much like, Sam thought, Elvis would have worn.. The man approached the leaper and asked with a thick accent, "Excuse me, but what species are you?"

"Excuse me?" Sam asked, not sure what the man had said.

"Species, species... what species are you?" he said louder as if the human was deaf.

"Species?" The leaper grimaced at the volume of the alien's voice, only having barely understood the word he'd repeated. "Umm... human?"

"And you're a Hanzalonian, aren't you?" the Doctor questioned with a frown.

Glad looked at the bizarre humanoid and pulled closer to the Doctor, using him to hide behind. She didn't say anything, though, and just watched with large eyes.

With a rather exaggerated smile, the new arrival answered, almost intelligibly. "Why, yes! Yes, I am. I've been hired by the Dragon government to redo their Clavoran Mural. You know it was almost destroyed during the War. It needed a lot of renovation to bring it back to its glory."

"And they hired you?" the Doctor huffed. "Might as well have hired a leech worm from Quintas."

The man turned back to Sam, grabbing his five fingered hands in his seven fingered ones. "How do you get along with so few fingers?" He groused, acting as if Sam must be mental cretin. To the Doctor, he replied, "Well, the price was right and I do guarantee my work."

"Oi! Keep your mitts off her, you _wlurpoinian maxirolp_!" the Doctor told him, knocking his hands away so that the Hanzalonian released his hold on Sam. As he moved forward, Glad pulled closer to him to continue to protect herself. Still she did no more than whimper a bit.

The Hanzalonian backed away, seeing the Doctor becoming more assertive. "You don't have to insult me!" he complained to the Gallifreyan. "I was just admiring the lady. Of course, being human she is such a weak creature. I'm sure they'll be extinct in a _flogure_ or two." He examined the Doctor for a moment with his eyes. "You're not human, are you? Well, that explains everything." He moved away, obviously having done what he'd wanted to do. "Well...Ta Ta. Have a nice day." The man walked off quickly.

"So says a member of a species that causes its own extinction in two hundred years time," the Doctor muttered with annoyance. He spoke to Glad, "It's okay. He's gone now, my dear. Won't bother us again."

"Good," she stated. "I didn't like him. Didn't understand him but... something about him..."

"But you understood him?" Sam questioned the Time Lord, motioning towards the departing alien.

"Unfortunately, yes," the Doctor responded. "I mean, seriously! How rude can you get? Sorry about that. I tried to get into an argument with him... Hanzalonians so like their arguments... but he seemed intent on examining you. Almost like he were some sort of biologist. But why wouldn't he want to examine me? I mean, I'm totally unique. Probably is a homophile."

"Um...yeah," Sam said as he shook his head as if to clear it. "Strange. All of the sudden I feel like someone's inside my head with a sledge hammer."

"Really?" the Gallifreyan questioned with a frown. "That came on rather quick. Well, let's get back to the TARDIS and I'll give you a mild analgesic."

This time Sam simply nodded and followed along behind the Time Lord and Glad, Glad taking the lead as she took in the sights around her. When they arrived at the TARDIS, the human scientist slumped down on a bench close by, his chin dropping down to his chest as if he was exhausted.

Neither the Doctor nor Glad seemed to notice his lethargy. "Well, now that we've finished here, I think we should find a nice sun to drop the residual poisonous goo into."

"The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned," Sam stated uncharacteristically, lifting his head in such a way as to minimize any sudden movement.

The Doctor turned towards him with a frown. "I thought you were enjoying visiting Lastiarus. Well, other than having to take that anti-venom." He studied the physicist for a moment, concerned with what he was seeing. "You don't look well at all. You look absolutely retched."

Sam let out a sad sigh. "I'm not feeling well." He paused. "I feel like I've just had a wall of bricks fall on me." As if he'd considered the statement and found it lacking, he amended. "No... I feel like the entire Empire State Building fell on me. A wall of bricks might actually be an improvement."

Glad gazed at Sam with worry. "You really don't look good, Sam."

"Come in here and sit down," the Time Lord ordered him as he gestured into the time ship.

The leaper obeyed slowly, standing before walking even slower into the TARDIS. He crept his way to the Captain's chair and sat down in a mostly controlled fashion as if he'd break if he dropped too fast.

The Doctor watched his friend's actions with growing concern. It was plainly obvious that the scientist was definitely in discomfort by the way he was walking, a sure indication that something far more than a headache was wrong. Reaching over, he felt Sam's pulse. "Your heart is racing."

Sam's glazed eyes moved to the Doctor's face, not arguing with the statement. "I felt fine when I left the palace."

"And you were okay when we were touring the city," Glad reminded. She started to move closer but the Doctor asked her to stand away from Sam until he examined him.

"When did this start then?" the Doctor questioned, hurrying around to his toolbox and pulling out an instrument before rushing back to Sam to examine his eyes. "Your pupils are far too dilated." Reaching into his jacket, he removed the sonic screwdriver, adjusted the settings and ran it over his patient. "And I'm not seeing any indication of this being Dragon excretion poisoning or a reaction to the anti-venom. No, this is something different... and definitely not good."

The human took a few moments as if processing the question and finally told him, "I started feeling very ill after meeting that red-headed man on the way here, but it came on so suddenly. Not to mention I still have that awful headache."

The Time Lord grimaced. "Your symptoms... Oh, this isn't good at all. Sounds like you have Zante's Bronchial Influenza. Might have picked it up from that annoying Hanzalonian who couldn't keep his hands off of you."

"Zante's... whatever it was you said?" Sam responded, no longer even thinking in a medical mode. "I've never heard of it." His hand once more went to his head. "Poison or not, I need an aspirin. Maybe two. Oh, hell, give me the entire bottle."

The Doctor frowned at his words. "Not exactly something that I would suggest." He noticed Glad moving toward Sam with the obvious intent to comfort him. "No. Get away from him, Glad. If I'm right, you need to stay as far away from him as possible." He gently took Sam's arm, encouraging him to stand. "Come on. Let me get you to the infirmary."

Glad frowned at the Gallifreyan's actions. "Why can't I get close to him but you can?"

"Because I'm immune and you're most definitely not. You stay here."

"But..." she started to protest. Seeing his commanding expression, she took a step back, plainly afraid of angering him further. "Okay," she said quietly.

As Gallifreyan moved the man through the inner door, he called out, "I need the console room sterilized as well as the corridor. Use something that won't negatively affect human physiology." He was glad to see that the TARDIS had anticipated the Doctor's actions and had moved the infirmary to the other side of the inner door. Helping Sam into the room, he sat him on the nearest couch and then went to obtain equipment to run the tests he needed. "I need to run your blood sample in the database to confirm my diagnosis."

Sam looked up at the Doctor with hollow eyes. "Okay," was all the human replied, although it was questionable whether he'd understood what the Doctor had said.

The Time Lord expertly drew a vial of blood and, once finished, told Sam to relax until the results were back. It concerned him that the man instead lay down on the medical couch, unresponsive. A few minutes later, the TARDIS spit out the answer to his question. "Oh, bloody hell!" he exclaimed under his breath. There weren't many times he hoped he was wrong but this was one of those times. Rubbing his eyes with one hand so that the action ended at the bridge of his nose, he exhaled loudly, clearly frustrated by the results. "Sam, you're a very sick man."

Sam looked up, his face pale before starting to cough violently. Once the coughing spell was over, his eyes again closed as he drifted towards unconsciousness.

Seeing the human male was no longer respondent to him, he located a blanket and covered him, reassuring him verbally that he would return. He paused for only a moment, thinking about Sam's condition. He didn't think it was a wise idea to leave him alone unrestrained yet, at the same time, he despised strapping anyone down. However, like the last time he'd needed to strap this man down, it was to protect him and he reluctantly attached the restraints. "Just until I come back and then we'll get you into someplace more comfortable." Insuring that a sterilization field was in place in the doorway, he exited the room and returned to the console room to inform Glad of the situation. "It's ZBI," he stated as he walked in. "Nasty disease. Not exactly the flu in terms that humans know. It's extremely fast acting and extremely contagious amongst humans, usually by touch though it has rarely been known to infect by air. Wiped out a good eighth of the Earth's population when it was introduced. The effect on the Earth was so devastating that it was renamed to Zante's Bronchial Influenza from its original name, which is far too long and difficult to pronounce in the English language. Paul Zante was Patient Zero." He shook his head. "I never did understand the human trait of naming diseases after the first person known to carry it. But cures are seldom named for the scientist who discovered it."

"Did I do something wrong?" Glad asked, still unsure of what had just occurred.

"Sorry?" the Gallifreyan questioned, clearly confused.

"Well... Sam is ill. I understand that. You said it was probably that awful creature that made him sick. But that creature isn't here and you don't want me near him and I don't know why you are angry with me."

The Doctor's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh. Oh, sweetheart. I'm not angry with you." He went over to her and enveloped her into his arms. "I was just worried, that's all. I don't want you to get sick too and that's what would happen if you touched Sam or anything's he's touched."

"But I don't have to touch him or anything he's touched. I just want to be in the same room."

"It's too dangerous at this stage. I don't know how ill he really is. And I can't tell whether or not the illness will become air-borne. It just would be far safer if you stay away from him until he's better."

"You said you were immune though. Why can't I be that?"

He gently released his hold to look into her eyes. "Glad, I'm immune because I'm a different species than you. I have a different biological make-up that allows me to fight off illnesses with far more ease than humans. I've been through plagues and epidemics on Earth, though, and I know how easy it is for you lot to contract a virulent strain."

Glad's face fell. "My father told me about a plague that hit our lands when he was a child. He told me the people got sick very quickly like Sam did. He said they began to die." She swallowed tightly. "Is Sam going to die, Doctor?"

Realizing that his abundant knowledge did little but needlessly frighten Glad, he again pulled her into a hug. "He's not going to die, Glad," he assured her. "ZBI is curable with the right treatment. He needs lots of rest and, if necessary, some medicine which we can pick up on another planet. But I want him to try to fight it off on his own first. The medicine is likely to have some... adverse side effects." He pulled out his sonic again. "Now, let me check to be certain you are free of infection." Running the device along the length of her form, he breathed a sigh of relief. "All clean. Well, relatively. Have some Lastiarian mud on your shoes but that's perfectly safe."

She looked pleased by his diagnosis. Gazing back into eyes that she saw had softened, she asked to confirm, "And you're not angry with me?"

"I am not angry with you," he reassured. "Why don't you go get some hot chocolate or something. I need to care for Sam for a bit. Meet you there when I'm done." Waiting until Glad had gone to do as she was told, he proceeded back to the infirmary to see Sam pulling weakly on the restraint around his chest. He moved to the man to release him since he was now next to him and the human wouldn't be able to hurt himself.

At the touch, Sam's eyes opened again with a start. "Huh? What?"

The Doctor sighed with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. "Come on," he said, helping Sam to stand. "To bed with you."

Sam allowed the Doctor to guide him, leaning heavily into the Gallifreyan for support. They moved slowly as the Doctor led him through the TARDIS and into Rose's room.

Leading the sick man to the bed, he helped lower Sam before bending down to take off his shoes. "I'm confining you to your room until you get better. Quarantine." Pulling back the covers, he ordered softly, "Now, lay down."

Sam agreed compliantly. "Okay." He didn't have to be told twice as his head sought the pillow like an iron rod to a magnet.

The Time Lord smiled slightly at his words. "Try to get some sleep. I'll bring you something to eat later." He turned and went out the door. Closing it behind him, the Doctor hesitated only a moment before pulling out his sonic screwdriver. "Sorry, Sam. But you aren't exactly in the right state of mind at the moment." Lifting the silver instrument, he locked the door with it before again tucking it into his jacket. "Have to keep you isolated even if you don't want to be." As he walked away from the door, he called out quietly to his ship, "Let me know immediately if he gets any worse." Knowing the devastation the disease had caused humanity, a sad thought crossed his mind that perhaps, if things did not go well, Beckett's Bronchial Influenza could be the result of the Hanzalonian's actions. The Time Lord then went to the kitchen in search of Glad.

When the Doctor walked in, Glad asked, "Is Sam okay?"

"He's sleeping now which is the best thing for him."

"And I can't see him? Because he's really sick?"

"I'm afraid so, my dear. He's going to be quarantined for quite a while."

"Then how will I talk to him? Maybe see that tapestry he told me about? He promised to introduce me to the adventures of Sherlock Holmes."

"Love Sherlock Holmes! Knew Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself. I could introduce you to Conan Doyle." Seeing the disappointed expression in his eyes, he added, "Or not. Tell you what... I'll watch the tapestry with you. Then we'll set up a camera and you can tell him all you want to say to him about the story that way. Make your own film. The video diaries of Galadriel..." He frowned. "You know... I never did ask what your surname is."

"Surname?"

"Last name. Family name. Your father had it and now you have it."

"Oh. They just called us thatchers."

"Thatchers!" he exclaimed brightly. "No doubt that was what your father did for a living as well as farming. Thatch. Lovely! Well, then, we shall start the video diaries of one Galadriel Thatcher!" He gave her a smile. "But... in the meantime..." He gestured towards the movie room. "The game is afoot."

Glad frowned as she followed him out the door. "How is a foot a game?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

After watching the 35th century version of _A Study In Scarlet_, the best version from the Doctor's point of view (although Jack had argued that he didn't find it as compelling as the 43rd century version) the events of the day finally caught up to Glad. With a yawn, she told the Doctor she was going to bed.

On her way out, he gave him her rubber duck. "Maybe Squee will cheer Sam up," she suggested.

The Gallifreyan looked at the duck with a hint of bemused appreciation. "I'll make sure that he receives it. Night, dear girl." He gave her a hug and a kiss to her forehead, sending her out of the room. Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he headed for Rose's room and noticed that it was silent. Listening intently for a moment, he unlocked the door and stepped through. "Sam?" he called out gently into the darkness. Turning on the lights, he slowly walked to the bed, not wanting to disturb his patient unless necessary. What he saw made him sigh.

Sam's face was covered in sweat and he'd pushed the covers away. Shivering as he breathed heavily, trying to take in a full breath, he coughed. "Who's there?" the ill man cried out.

"It's the Doctor." Turning on the light he moved to the ill man. He carefully sat on the bed and moved his hand to feel Sam's temperature. "40.6 degrees Celsius. Far too high for humans. Need to bring your temperature down." He pulled the covers completely off of Sam. "How are you feeling?"

"I hurt everywhere. It feels like my arms and legs are cramping and I can hardly breathe."

The Doctor ran the sonic over the length of Sam's body. "Not to worry. We'll make sure that you feel better soon. I'm going to get you some broth and raise the humidity in here. Should help you breathe a little easier. I'll lower the temperature here too… make the room a little less hot." Standing, he went over to one side of the room, where the TARDIS had placed a bathroom and a door to gain access. Returning from the bathroom with a damp washcloth, he wiped the perspiration from Sam's face and neck. "Better?" he questioned, hoping that the changes he'd ordered, which the TARDIS immediately implemented, were aiding his sick friend.

"A little. Thanks," Sam said. "That feels good," he commented regarding the Doctor's ministrations. "You have a good bedside manner."

"Well... I am a doctor." A weak smile reached the Gallifreyan's eyes. "You just rest while I get that broth for you." He stood and started for the door.

Sam stopped the Doctor with his question. "Is Glad with you?"

"She's gone to bed." Remembering what Glad had asked of him, he gently patted himself down before pulling out Squee from one of his pockets. "She asked me to lend you her duck. Hopes it will give you some comfort." He smiled as he put the rubber duck on the table beside the bed.

The sick man looked at the bright yellow toy. "Can you send her in? I'd like to thank her."

"I'll tell her," the Time Lord replied and turned for the door again.

"I'll do it if you send her in," Sam continued to ask.

"I can't, Sam. You're under quarantine."

"Why?"

The Doctor exhaled slowly, wishing that he didn't have to go over this with Sam again. He knew that it wasn't Sam's fault that he couldn't remember their last conversation very clearly. "You are extremely sick, Sam. And extremely contagious. Well, contagious to your fellow humans. I can't let Glad come in to see you or she will get sick herself. And her immune system isn't as strong as yours. If she catches ZBI, she would likely die. I know you don't want that to happen any more than I do."

Sam looked at the Doctor wide-eyed, taking the statement to its worst case. "She would die? Then, no. I don't want her here."

"I didn't think so. I'll go get your broth now." He turned to leave the room again.

"Okay," Sam answered. "I'm going to get some water." He tried to get up but couldn't.

"I'll bring you some water too. Stay in bed. Doctor's orders." Closing the door behind him as he left, the Gallifreyan made his way to the kitchen where he prepared the simple dinner of warmed broth. He also procured a large plastic pitcher of iced water and some Jell-O before returning to the bedroom with a full tray.

Opening the door without knocking, he placed the tray on the side table, moving the rubber duck onto the tray. "There we are. Broth, dessert, and plenty of cold water." Raising his head, he realized that Sam wasn't in bed as he had hoped. "Sam?" Walking around the bed, he noticed that his patient was on the floor in the bathroom, his face practically pressed against the tile. "What are you doing down there?" he questioned with concern, reaching down to help him up.

"Don't wanna move. Feels good," Sam mumbled.

"Yes, I'm sure that it does," the Doctor told him, encouraging him to stand. "But you need to be in bed, you need to eat, and you need liquids, not to be on the floor."

He looked up at the Doctor. "You have any aspirin? My head hurts."

The Time Lord sighed. "I'll see if I can procure a mild analgesic that will help bring down your fever. We have to get you in bed." He crouched down to be available if Sam needed his help to get to his feet.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. "Get up," he said to himself as if telling his body to move. "Need to get up." He didn't move though.

The Gallifreyan gave a small sympathetic smile as he put his hand on Sam's forehead. He noted the way the ill man pressed his head into the hand, obviously taking comfort in the Doctor's natural lower body temperature. It was clearly obvious that the leaper wasn't going to be able to get to his feet on his own. Lifting the hand away, the Doctor put his arms around him and pulled him physically up. He was dead weight in the Doctor's arms, forcing the lanky man to put Sam's arm over his shoulder to help keep the human on his feet. "You, Sam Beckett, are much heavier than you look," he complained slightly, pulling Sam towards the bed.

"God, fate, time or whoever seems to want to keep me in shape," Sam said somewhat disjointedly. "Who'd have thought a rotund bartender would care?"

The Doctor chuckled at his words as he carefully laid him on the bed. While Sam's ramblings were amusing, to the Doctor they indicated that his fever must be worse than before. "You just rest," he instructed gently, pulling only a thin sheet over him for comfort.

Sam coughed a few times. "Why can you come in when Glad can't?"

Going to the closet, the Doctor pulled down a couple of pillows and returned to Sam. "Sit up," he instructed, not immediately answering the question. "She's human. I'm not."

Sam complied with the Doctor's request, allowing him to put extra pillows behind him to help him sit upright. "So this thing only affects humans?"

"It's more like humans are far more susceptible to it than other races. Plus I have a highly advanced immune system. There is very little in the universe that can make me sick." He picked up the bowl of broth and handed him the spoon. "Come on. Drink up."

Sam shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Correction. You are hungry; you just don't have an appetite. And I would rather you received your meals this way rather than intravenously." Taking the spoon back from him, he ladled a small amount from the bowl. "Drink up. That's an order."

Sam compliantly opened his mouth, although he was obviously not happy about it. "I gotta warn you. When I'm sick, I seldom hold things down for long."

"That's okay. I've got a bucket ready just in case. It's also the reason why we're starting with slightly warm broth. And you don't have to eat it all at once." He put the spoon in Sam's mouth and waited until he closed it before pulling the utensil back out.

Eating the broth the Doctor gave him, he got to five bites before he shook his head. "No more. Really."

The Doctor sighed slightly, putting the broth back on the tray. "I have to tell you that, if you keep at this rate, you are going to be severely malnourished before you are completely over this. It usually runs its course in about three to four weeks. That's a long time to only have five spoonfuls of broth intermittently."

Sam blinked but didn't react to the timeline, which again showed how sick he was. "I'll eat more later." He lay back on the pillows, his eyes closing. "My head still hurts."

The Time Lord put the tray on the nightstand before placing his hand against Sam's forehead once more, noting the slight rise in his temperature. Reaching over with his other hand, he placed them on Sam's temples before massaging them gently until the latter had fallen asleep. Slowly standing, he exited the bedroom, locking the door behind him as he left. The broth would keep for several hours and, hopefully, would be gone when he returned.

Going back to the console room, he occupied himself with tinkering in order to keep himself from worrying about his ailing friend.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Through the night, the TARDIS would inform the Doctor of Sam's progress, or rather lack thereof. The Gallifreyan was up and down several times, doing his best to keep the fever at bay. Early the next morning, he walked into the kitchen and went straight for the cabinet to obtain some loose tea. As he was preparing a cup, Glad walked in as well. Sensing her presence, he finished fixing the cup before deciding to give that one to her. "He's worse," he told her, knowing what she was about to ask.

"Can I make the movie for him then?" she asked. "Maybe that will make him feel better."

The Doctor smiled at her words. "Marvelous idea," he complimented. "After breakfast." He went back to make another cup of tea to replace the one he had given to her.

She took a sip from her cup. "I really liked that movie we watched last night." She gave a slight frown. "But why are they also called films? Neither you nor Sam ever explained that."

"Well, they're also called films for the actual cellophane they are recorded on."

"What's cellophane?"

"It's... very thin plastic." He paused, seeing the confusion on her face. "I explain later." Seeing the slightly annoyed expression on the girl's face, he added, "I promise. When we make your film for Sam."

The two enjoyed their teas, having fresh fruit for their first meal of the day, before the Doctor led the girl through the TARDIS to a specific room. "Here we are! The vault!" he announced, gesturing to the round canisters around. He plucked one from a shelf and opened it. "Remember asking about cellophane? This is cellophane. Don't touch unless your hands are clean and be very gentle. These films are ancient... well, I picked them up when they were ancient. Go to Sam's time and they're just a little old." He closed the canister quickly and replaced it before grabbing her hand and pulling her along to the other side of the room.

"So you mean they're like DVDs only older!" Glad exclaimed excitedly.

"Sort of," the Doctor hedged. "The big difference is that various forms of light imprint on cellophane to create films whereas DVDs..." He paused. "Actually, they're imprinted with various forms of light as well. But it's different. You can put a small scratch on a DVD and it won't hurt the disc unless it's a deep scratch. Film? Not such a good idea. Too delicate." He picked up a disc and twirled it in his hand. "And, with film, you actually put the images on the cellophane. DVDs, you record the images on a metal that covers the plastic disc which in turn is covered with plastic to prevent damage to the metallic surface. Which is what we will be doing for you. The recording, that is, not making the actual DVD disc."

"We're going to make the movie?" she squealed excitedly.

"We're going to make the movie!" the Doctor told her with a wide grin. "Disc one of Galadriel Thatcher's video diary! Figured you'd like to do that, a diary. Be able to show your grandchildren who you were, who you are, who you will be, what you did, what you like to do..."

She laughed. "I'm not even married and you're talking about my grandchildren! I just want to tell Sam about seeing Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson."

"What? You don't think you will have grandchildren eventually?"

"Well... probably but not right now." Her eyes grew wide. "I don't have to get married right now, do I? I mean... that's not necessary to travel with you, is it?"

"Why would it be a requirement for you to be married to travel with me? In fact, when you think about it, I'd say the opposite is true. I mean, if you're married, there's too much... domestic stuff going on."

She took in what he said and decided it was settled. No marriage for her for at least another year. "Great. Now can we make the movie."

"Right!" He grabbed her shoulders gently. "Sit down right there, then, while I find that camcorder. I know I left it in here somewhere... Of course, Sam was the last one to use it... Or was that the one that was destroyed?" After a minute of searching, he popped up with a grin. "Here we are! Knew it was in here." He started talking to himself. "Check for power... check for memory... Brilliant!" Going to a spot in front of Glad, he sat on the floor and aimed the camera at her. "Focus..." he murmured. "There we go! Talk away, dear girl!"

Glad did just that, her animated voice starting with "You just want to lounge around in bed and not have to do anything for awhile. Well, let me tell you what the Doctor and I did." She spent the next thirty minutes talking about watching _A Study in Scarlet_." She finally finished, "And we're going to watch _The Sign of Four_ tonight." She paused. "I really do hope you're feeling better soon, Sam."

The Doctor looked at her for a moment. "Done?" he questioned.

She nodded. "Was it good?"

"Oh, you were fantastic! A superstar!" he told her as he stopped the recording and stood up.

"Are you going to take that to Sam? I wish I could see how he likes it."

"Just as soon as I put it on a disc," he answered.

"Okay." As she watched the Doctor working she asked. "What's a superstar? You said that the stars were all the shiny diamonds in the sky. Is there a special kind of star? Why would you call me one?"

The Gallifreyan paused for a moment, frowning slightly. "Oh. Yeah, that would be a bit confusing." He took a breath. "A star, like the ones you see in the sky, are actually suns but are very, very far away so they look really, really small to the naked eye. But 20th century humans... and further on actually... would call very famous actors, the ones in films, stars because they 'shine' on film. A superstar, on the other hand, is not only a famous actor or actress but also a dazzling one... someone absolutely everyone has heard of. And... well..." He smiled widely at her. "You're a superstar to me!"

She smiled back at him brilliantly. "And you're a superstar to me then!" She encouraged him to hurry on his task wanting to have Sam see it soon.

It took only a few more minutes for the Doctor to finish the disc. Standing, he showed it to Glad. "Here it is. Your first movie. I suppose you want him to see this right away."

She nodded. "Yes. If I can't see him, then he can see me."

"Then I'd better go take it to him." He exited the room, Glad following him out the door. He slowed as he came close to Sam's room. "Why don't you go on to the library and find something we can read together. You still need to work on that."

She looked at him sadly. "You don't want me here when you open the door, do you."

He gently took her shoulder. "It's for your own good, Glad. He is extremely contagious. I don't want you to get sick as well."

She shrugged. "Okay, okay. I know." She headed off to the library.

He waited patiently until Glad was out of the area before unlocking the door and walking into the bedroom. "Hello, Sam. Have something for you."

Since the Doctor last checked on him, Sam appeared to have worsened even more. "What?" he croaked out.

The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed at the rattle in Sam's voice. Going over to the ill man, he bent over to look at him closer. "Oh, Sam. You really don't look too good." He remembered the disc in his hand. "Want a bit of cheering up?"

Sam nodded. It was a tossup as to whether he'd really understood the question or it if was a case of simply agreeing to anything.

"Right, then," the Time Lord said, looking around. Going over to the television that was situated on the inlaid bookcase, he turned the device so that Sam could see it before putting the disc into the DVD player underneath and pressing "play." As the disc started, he again took Sam's temperature, grimacing with deep concern. Refilling the water pitcher, he then exited, locking the door behind him. He headed towards the library, his mind already deciding that reading likely wasn't on the agenda for the day after all.

Sitting in a large chair, Glad was looking at a children's book. "What's wrong?" she asked as he walked in.

"He's far worse than I originally thought. His immune system isn't fighting off the infection. He's going to need some very special medication and it isn't available on Lastiarus."

"Then where do we need to go?"

Before the Doctor could answer, he felt the TARDIS indicating that Sam was highly agitated. "Hold that thought," he stated quickly before hurrying back to Rose's room. As he approached the door, the sound of breakage reached him. Rushing to unlock the door, the Doctor moved rapidly into the room, his concern magnifying twenty-fold.

Sam was standing, wild and glassy-eyed. He had thrown a paperweight at the TV. He turned to the Time Lord. "What were you thinking, Tom? Why did you bring Katie in here? Both of you could die!"

The Time Lord frowned at Sam's words before noticing the broken television. He sagged visibly. "Rose is going to kill me. She picked that out herself." Blinking, he realized what Sam had said a moment ago. "Who are Tom and Katie?"

"Stop playing around, Tom. I could have really hurt Katie if I hadn't gotten her out of here. You need to get out too."

"Okay," the Doctor started, slowly approaching him. "Obviously, you're having hallucinations..." He frowned. "…which isn't one of the symptoms I've heard about concerning ZBI. Still... I'm not Tom. I'm the Doctor. And Katie isn't here. Who is Katie, Sam?"

"Tom, I'm not going to lose you again. Get away from me." He backed up. "Mom would have our hides if we let our little sister get hurt." He reached the wall and slid down it. Reaching the floor he suddenly changed thoughts. "I think I've killed Al. I haven't seen him for such a long time. Can this flu kill a hologram?"

The Doctor followed him to the wall, slowly lowering himself to be face to face with him. "Al is fine. He's just... away for a bit." He carefully reached towards him. "Let me just feel your head, Sam."

Sam looked at the Gallifreyan, his eyes unfocused. He blinked a few times. "Where did he go? He's never been gone this long." He allowed the Doctor to touch his head. "That feels nice."

"Don't worry about him," the Doctor murmured gently. "He'll return soon." He frowned at Sam's comment about his hand against his forehead. "I bet it does. You're burning up." He knew he'd have to get more fever reducer into the man but first he needed to get him back to bed. "Come on," he said pulling Sam up into his arms.

Allowing himself to be lifted, the change in position caused the leaper to promptly pass out.

The Doctor exhaled quickly. "Wonderful," he said sarcastically as he felt the dead weight of the man. He then carried Sam to the bed, laying him in it before covering him and tucking a pillow under his head. "I have a feeling it's probably easier to keep you strapped to a couch in the medical bay," the Time Lord muttered, shaking his head. Feeling his patient's forehead one more time, he frowned strongly. "You're over 42 degrees now. You're definitely not going to beat this on your own." He turned towards the door, the remains of the television catching his eye. "Hope you stay in bed this time, Sam. I don't have time to clean up your mess." Almost as if in answer to his comment, the broken television and all the glass shards seemed to disappear. The Doctor grinned, looking at the nearest wall. "You're being more helpful than normal. Thanks!" The hum in his mind was all the response he needed.

Leaving the bedroom, he stalked towards the console room, his face a picture of anxiety.

Glad had left the library and was waiting for the Doctor in the console room. "Doctor? How's Sam? Did he like the movie?"

"I'm not sure if he actually understood what he was watching, to be honest. His temperature is dangerously high and I'm fairly sure he mistaken your image for that of someone else."

"Who?" she asked.

"Someone named Katie. From what I could gather she's his little sister."

"Katie. It has a nice sound to it." She suddenly realized what the Doctor had said. "Dangerously high? That sounds bad."

"It is," he told her, "I've used the strongest medicines I have. If we don't bring the fever down soon, it will damage his brain. Remember what I said about that special medicine? I need to get it now." He walked to the console and started inputting coordinates. Once they were entered, he flicked a switch, causing the TARDIS to jolt slightly as the time ship dematerialized.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Glad watched the Doctor, his face etched with concern. Finally she asked, "Where are we going?"

"The Seven Cities of the Great Meridian Conglomeration. Well, I say cities. It's more like the seven planets of the Great Meridian Conglomeration as each city covers the surface of each of the seven planets in the mother system, though there are several distant planets under their rule. One of the cities there has a drug that will help Sam. Problem is that it can be a very dangerous thing if you aren't careful with the dosage."

Glad wasn't exactly sure what a dosage was but she didn't like the idea it could be dangerous. Still, if it could help Sam, she was all for it. "Seven Cities sounds interesting."

The Doctor grinned at her words. "Oh, they are. You'll love them. A Mecca of different species all gathered in them, each city having their own specialty, including pharmacopoeia. If there is any place in the universe that would have something to help Sam, it's the Seven Cities."

"How soon until we get there?"

He looked up at the time rotor for a moment. "Half an hour. Not soon enough, in my opinion. Enough time for you to get cleaned up, though."

She sighed. "Fine. There's not much to do when we're flying through the vortex anyway." Thirty minutes later, she returned to the console room, clean and changed into a new outfit, which she pilfered from the wardrobe. The Doctor looked at it appraisingly before giving a nod of approval. At the same time, the TARDIS shook, indicating that they had arrived at their destination.

"Now, a few rules while we're in the city," the Gallifreyan told her as they stepped out. "One, stay where I can see you. B, stay away from the sweet shops. Three, don't wander off. Actually, that's rule number one. Oh, and don't get into trouble."

"I'm not that bad," she tried to claim.

"You had three days worth of sweets since you came aboard the TARDIS," he replied bluntly. "Not even I have that much and I'm considered a fanatic!"

"Yeah, but this is all new to me."

"Yes, and you have a lot of time to be able to try everything! It's not like you're going back to Camelot tomorrow!" He paused with concern at the thought. "Unless you want me to take you home."

She shook her head solemnly. "No. I want to stay with you."

The Time Lord beamed at her words. "_Molto bene_! Come on, then. Need to pick up Sam's meds and then, while we let him rest, we can go exploring for a bit."

She smiled. "So what are we waiting for?" She rushed forward ahead of him.

"Stay here in the market!" he emphasized, walking quickly behind her. As he approached one of the apothecaries in the city, he took several quick steps to stop her enthusiastic sightseeing. Pointing out where he would be, he told her, "Let me know before you go to another street."

"I will. Geez, you treat me like I was an infant. I have been in markets before."

Smiling in amusement of her answer, he walked into the apothecary, making sure he had a clear view of the market through the window before he approached the counter.

"May I help you, sir?" the druggist asked.

"Yes. I am in need of a full treatment for Zante's Bronchial Influenza, preferably in powder form."

"What do you want with that?"

"I need a preventative for ZBI."

"That medicine has such nasty side effects. The treatment for Ethirian Bronchitis works much the same but works in a much gentler fashion. Perhaps you like that instead?"

"The medicine for Ethirian Bronchitis isn't as effective," the Doctor countered, not wanting to worry the pharmacist by saying the actual reason he needed the stronger medicine. Sam was to all effects at ground zero and he'd need the strongest available drug to counteract the pathogen's effects. "Besides, I'll be heading to the Sol System soon."

"Okay... I guess you'd need that. I understand, ZBI is a huge issue in the Sol System. Fortunately, it's expected to lose its virulence long before it reaches here, thank Volma. However, that medicine is not available to just anyone."

"Need a prescription? Okay." The Time Lord pulled out his psychic paper and showed it to him. "There you are. A prescription for the medicine I require."

The man looked at the paper and rolled his eyes. "A blank sheet of paper? I don't have time for this, sir."

The Doctor rubbed his face in frustration. It was just his luck that the psychic paper did not work on the man. Added to that, his impression that ZBI just wasn't considered a danger on this planet... despite the fact that it was running rampant on Earth... brought the Time Lord to his wit's end. Of course, it had to be his luck that he would land in Gwant City one week before the drug was introduced to the general population. "Listen... just listen," he told the pharmacist. "I know it isn't available to the public yet. All I want is enough to last four weeks. I'm not asking for your entire supply!"

"I could lose my license!"

"I'm not going to tell anyone!" the Doctor countered. He exhaled loudly. "All right. All right. How much would it cost for you to... insure you keep your license?"

"4500 _krekkers_."

"4500?!"

"Well, if you don't want the drug..."

The Time Lord sighed. "All right." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a card, handing it over to him. "Take it off that."

"You've got a _Platerinian_ Card? You don't look the type."

"Yeah, well... I get around. Could you shift a bit?"

"What's your hurry?"

"Don't want to miss my flight."

The druggist nodded. "Fine. Give me ten minutes and it'll be ready."

The Doctor just gave a nod, taking a few steps away from the counter to let the pharmacist do his work. Looking around the shop, he noticed several more unusual remedies, causing him to grin slightly with amusement. Turning his head towards the street side window, he sighed. "Teenagers. They just don't listen," he grumbled to himself, noting that he couldn't see Glad through the window. "Tell them to stay in sight? They wander off." He marched out of the apothecary and crossed the street. Stepping into the shop Glad had gone into, he looked around. "No no no. This isn't good." Going back outside, he looked up and down the street, hoping to catch sight of the girl. He was about to choose a direction to go when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw the pharmacist standing before him, a metal container in one hand and the Doctor's card in the other. The Gallifreyan took the items from him, tucking them in his jacket. "You didn't happen to see a young girl through the window while we were talking, did you?"

"Young girl? Um... no. I don't think so."

A sigh escaped the Doctor's lips. "Thanks," he murmured. Turning around again, he picked a direction and started walking, keeping his eyes open.

Ten minutes into his search, he realized that this was going to take far longer than he originally thought. Torn between the need to find Glad and the need to treat Sam, he decided to return to the TARDIS. He hoped that the girl had gotten bored and returned there herself ahead of him but he seriously doubted it. His suspicions were confirmed as he approached the timeship. She didn't have a TARDIS key in her possession yet, which meant she would have had to wait for the Doctor to unlock the ship. Pulling out his key, he looked around again before going in. He bypassed the console room completely, intent on getting to Sam as quickly as possible.

Walking into Rose's room, he approached the bed, pulling the metal container from his pocket. Reaching over, he touched Sam's forehead, inadvertently waking him. He gave him a soft smile. "Hey."

Sam's eyes fluttered open. He wasn't at all sure where he was. Things seemed incredibly foggy and surreal. He could see a man bending over him. "Dad? Tom? Al?" he asked, unsure who was there.

"None of the above," the Doctor answered him, taking out the metal container from his pocket. Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out a plastic cup and placed it on the side table before opening the tin and taking a pinch of power from it. Dropping the powder into the plastic cup, he took the water bottle and started to fill the cup.

"Who are you? Why am I here?" Sam tried to pull himself up but found that he didn't have the strength to move much. The part of his brain that was medically trained registered that he was ill. From the way he felt, he knew it was bad. "What do I have?" he asked, although he wasn't sure anything this man said would make much sense to him under the conditions.

The Doctor exhaled slowly, wondering why it was that Sam couldn't seem to remember the simplest of things, an oddity considering he had an eidetic memory. "Zante's Bronchial Influenza," he told him as he finished mixing the dose. He studied the thickness of the solution before nodding slightly. "Can you sit up?"

Sam tried once more to pull himself up but again found himself too weak. "No," he answered simply. He looked at the ochre-colored concoction in the cup. "What's that and who are you?"

"This is your medicine and I am the Doctor." The Gallifreyan put the cup on the side table to help Sam up. "It will help you fight that fever you have."

"Fever. Yeah. I've got a fever," Sam agreed. He realized that he probably sounded like he was babbling - which, in fact, he was. The man had said he was a doctor. The room didn't look like a hospital, though. It looked more like a bedroom. A girl's bedroom. Maybe he was in someone's home. It didn't matter, though. As sick as he was, he just needed medical attention. He allowed the man to help him sit up, lying heavily back on the pillows.

"Yes, you do," the Doctor agreed. Picking up the cup again, he lifted it to Sam's lips. "Drink," he ordered. "I can't stay. Glad's wandered off. Have to find her before she gets into trouble. What is it with you lot and the need to wander?"

Sam drank the liquid in the cup. It tasted horrid, but knowing pharmaceutical mixtures often did, he just swallowed. He couldn't help make a face at the foul taste. "That's awful," he grimaced. What the Doctor had said grazed his mind. "Glad?"

"Galadriel Thatcher, the girl from King Arthur's Court whom I brought aboard the TARDIS," the Gallifreyan reminded. Retrieving the cup, he put it to the side as he stood.

Sam looked at this Doctor, sure he'd lost his mind at the explanation. "Sorry. I must be having hallucinations. It sounded like you said she was from King Arthur's Court." He didn't even have a clue was a TARDIS would be.

"You are not hallucinating this time, Sam," the Time Lord replied. "Lie back down."

Sam felt like he was heading down Alice's proverbial rabbit hole. As he thought that thought, a nagging idea took hold that he should know something about that particular story but couldn't put his finger on what. He was too tired to think about it much, not that his synapses were cooperating at all. Going with the literary theme of what seemed to him to be a bizarre conversation at the least, he responded, "Well, if you meet Robin Hood, maybe he'll help you find her." Sam closed his eyes and turned over on his side. He allowed sleep to take him. Maybe when he woke up again, things would make more sense.

The Doctor watched Sam close his eyes and, satisfied that the time traveler would be asleep for several hours thanks to the medicine he'd drunk, headed out of the room. "Can't have Robin of Loxley help. He's still in 14th century," he muttered as he left.

The sun had gone down as he had tended to Sam. Retrieving a flashlight on the way back out of the TARDIS, the Doctor took a deep breath. Figuring that the best place to start was where he last saw Glad, he returned to the market. Going up to the kiosk he had seen the girl browsing around, he waited impatiently while the vendor tended a patron before gaining his attention. "Excuse me. I'm wondering if you noticed a girl here less than an hour ago. About a meter and a half tall, blue eyes, long brown hair..."

The man huffed slightly. "Yeah. She was looking at this music box." He pulled a damaged good from under his counter. "I found it at the back of my patch, broken. She probably left after that. Do you know how many _krekkers_ I lose from youngsters doing that?"

"I seriously doubt that she just broke that music box and ran off. That really doesn't sound like her." The Doctor looked down the street for a moment. "You didn't see where she went?"

The merchant shook his head. "No. I was waiting on someone at the time. So, what am I going to do about this, huh? Regardless of your belief, I'm out 400 _krekkers_. That's just wrong."

"Not my problem," the Time Lord told him starting away from the kiosk.

"Sure. Your kid and you don't even take care of her messes. Great father you are," the merchant responded.

"She's not my daughter." He frowned for a moment. "Let me see that for a moment." Seeing the merchant hesitate, he looked at him with a single raised eyebrow. "What do you think I'm going to do? Steal a broken music box?"

The merchant's eyebrows rose at the statement that he wasn't her father. "You want to see it? You need to pay for it. I don't know what your game is but I'm sure it's not what it seems."

"I'm just looking for my friend!" the Doctor protested. Watching the merchant cross his arms stubbornly, he groused, "Fine." Searching his pockets, he pulled out his _Platerinian_ Card for the second time that day.

The merchant took the card, ran it and then handed the broken item to the man who'd just bought it along with the card. "Hope you find the girl."

"Oh, now that you've got your 400 _krekkers_, you're concerned about her," the Gallifreyan commented sarcastically. "Thank you very much." He snatched the broken box from the vendor's hands, tucking his credit card back in his jacket pocket. Looking at the box carefully, he hummed before pulling out a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and slipping them over his eyes. "I don't see anything... She was definitely holding it, though." He sniffed it experimentally. "Odd scent." He turned to the merchant again. "You don't keep any cleaning fluids near your goods, do you?"

"No. That wouldn't help sell them, now would it?" answered the merchant with a bit of attitude in his voice.

"Smell that," the Doctor ordered, pushing the box towards him. "Go on. What does that smell like to you?"

The man scrunched up his nose. "Smells like _phenix_ acid to me."

"_Phenix_ acid!" exclaimed the Doctor loudly. His face scrunched a moment later. "What's _phenix_ acid?"

"It's a product that some people use for cleaning stuff, but it's not really very popular. You breathe in too much, it knocks you out."

"Knocks you out... Yes! Like ammonia! No... Wait a minute. Wrong chemical for humans. Ammonia only knocks out Clomians. Should have had some on hand with that Absorbaloff. Wait... getting distracted... humans... more like chloroform." He put the music box under the merchant's nose again, speaking rapidly. "And I bet this wood is extremely absorbent to airborne particles, which is why you keep it isolated from harsh chemicals. That means that this box has been around _phenix_ acid very recently." He dropped the broken music box on the ground. "Which means someone knocked her out with _phenix_ acid while she was holding the music box. Someone took her." He frowned. "But why would anyone take Glad? She's never been here before. She doesn't know anyone here."

The merchant looked on as the wild-eyed man in front of him broke the box further. "Umm. Right." He looked around, apparently embarrassed by the activities. "You might want to move off my patch. After all, you know she's not here."

The Doctor didn't seem to be listening to him, staring blankly for a long moment. "Why do you take a young girl by force?" he murmured. "Why do you take anyone in the Seven Cities?" Suddenly, as if he had decided on the spur of the moment, he turned and quickly left the shop.

The merchant, who had appeared relieved when the Doctor had left the premises, was preparing to clean up the mess at his feet. He sighed heavily with annoyance when the Time Lord walked back to his space. He watched the Doctor pick up the broken music box and leave again with a brief apology. The shopkeeper merely nodded, obviously relieved.

"Think," the Doctor ordered himself as he walked, not really focused on a destination. A small smile crept onto his face and he increased his pace, his eyes shining with determination. It took over an hour and several turns in the streets for him to find his destination. Striding through the front doors of the warehouse as if he owned the building, he marched across the floor, avoiding boxes with ease, before coming to a flight of metallic stairs going downwards. Taking the stairs quickly, he went down two flights and through a hidden door, slamming the door behind him and causing the object of his journey to jump out of a cot and onto the floor, clearly startled by the sudden interruption in his sleep pattern.

"What the hell?" complained the tall, wiry red-haired man with freckles that numbered like the Milky Way.

"Pelz, I need your help."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_United States Virgin Islands_

_March 2010 _

As they exited the plane, Jack breathed in the air. "This is going to be fun."

"I can't believe we're actually doing this!" Rose exclaimed for the twentieth time. She spun around slightly, her head tilted to catch the sun.

Smiling, Jack checked his Blackberry. From the airport, he'd asked Al to assure they had a place to stay and a car. He smiled noting that Al had rented a private villa, probably to prevent either of them from being in public too much. Pulling up the information on the Internet, he saw that the place looked elegant. "Al's a good man," he said smiling. "I wonder what kind of car he got us."

"So... where are we going?" Rose asked, seeing Jack's actions and knowing, from what he had said on the plane, that Al had picked out a place for them to stay. He handed the Blackberry to her to look. "You're kidding me," she said, gawking at the photo. "This is a joke, right?"

Jack pointed to the description. "Secluded. I don't think Calavicci wants us to be seen much."

"I don't care," she answered. "We're in the Virgin Islands!"

"Yeah. We'll have a nice visit. Might even rent a sailboat for a day."

"Like you visit a tropical haven every day of the year," she taunted him. "Nice visit? That's all?"

"Well, I've been to my share of them."

"I bet you have. But I haven't. Well, at least not here on Earth." She grabbed his hand. "Come on! Let's get our car and go!"

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "Yeah. Let's go."

They made their way down to the car rental counter. As Jack produced a credit card and completed the transaction, Rose went to get their luggage. Once in the Jeep, they headed to the villa management office to pick up the key. Finishing with a stop at the market for food, they finally arrived at the villa.

Rose practically dropped the groceries on the nearest counter that she could find. "This place is amazing."

"It is great. I'm ready to jump in the pool. How about you?"

"Twelve hours on a plane or in an airport? More than ready. Plane travel makes me miss the TARDIS."

"Yeah. Travel by TARDIS is the best."

She paused, considering as she put away the groceries. "Miss it?"

"I do, but my team in Wales is an awesome group. This is the longest I've been away from them."

"I wonder what the Doctor would think if he knew you were the head of Torchwood."

Jack looked out at the ocean. "He understands."

"You mean he knows?" Rose questioned, going up to him.

"Well, he's not comfortable with it at the moment, but that will change."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll get over it. I just didn't know that he already knew and never told me."

"He found out after you arrived at Sam's project."

"Bet that went over well. Anyway, that pool out there is calling." She started for the bedroom where she had put her newly purchased suitcase.

Jack nodded and moved to his room. A few moments later they both came out, Jack in trunks and Rose in trunks with a t-shirt.

"I promised I wouldn't look," Jack said with a hurt expression.

"Yeah, well, I'm not used to going topless anyway and, well... Sam would just look a little too strange in a bathing suit."

Jack sighed. "You're probably right. Now last one to the pool gets to cook dinner." With that the two headed out for some fun in the sun.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Melbourne, Australia_

_February 2009_

The Master was lying beside his new bride of a week and a half, surprised by how truly happy he was that, in this life, he'd finally found someone worthy of his affections. She was almost perfect. Almost being that, until he'd figured out how to build the Endowment Chamber and use the Black Eye - the meteorite found in the Australian Outback - to fuel it, she would continue to exist physically on the same level with the apes. Once more a smile curled his lips as he thought about how he would be the one to change all that.

A month before their nuptials, Peri had insisted that they purchase a house - a proper house - to replace the suite they shared at the top of the Prometheus Institute building. Given Lothos' propensity to invade their privacy despite assurances - or rather excuses, in the Master's opinion - that he was only doing so to ensure their safety, the Time Lord had no issue with Peri's request. He did have some issue, however, when she had suggested that they do a proper human marriage ceremony rather than a Gallifreyan one, which was really more of looking into each other's souls and promising a life together. It was only after she pointed out that they wouldn't really be married according to human laws that the Master finally relented to a civil ceremony performed by the local justice of the peace.

After taking her back to their house, the Master and Peri had no problem make it physically clear just how important the Gallifreyan ceremony was in comparison to the human one, however.

As he lay on their large bed, the doorbell rang. Peri had gone into shower so she wasn't there to hear and answer it. Reggie, normally in the guest house where they had ensconced him so that he'd be available, was off on an errand. The Master had decided to ignore the sound, figuring the person would simply go away. When a good three minutes went by, the ringing almost constant, he pulled himself up and tied a robe around his naked body before stomping down the stairs ready to give the rude sot a what for.

He pulled open the door about to say something witty, brilliant, and shockingly blunt about the annoyance that had been pounding the ringer when he was drawn up short. In front of him was an older woman who, if she'd been Peri's age, would have to be her twin. He stood there trying to figure this out. If he didn't know better, he'd think this older woman was Peri's mother... but, from what he'd gathered, she'd died years before. Maybe an aunt.

"Well, don't just stand there like a dolt! My heavens, she knows how to pick them now, doesn't she. Why she can't find someone with more than a thimbleful of common sense, I'll never know..."

He blinked. "Now see here..."

"No. You see here. I can't believe you got married at a justice of the peace. That's for... for… the common people. Not a Langford of Queensland! Her father's likely turning over in his grave!"

"Just who in Rassilon's Tower are you?!" he demanded, not allowing the woman to enter. His power to keep her out, however, was hampered as she pushed past him into the house, gaining a stunned look that threatened to turn homicidal at any minute.

"Where is she, that daughter of mine? Periwinkle Agnes Langford! Where are you, child? Now don't play games with you dear Mama..." she called out, walking from room to room.

"Agnes?" the Master questioned with a frown. He blinked for a moment. "Wait a minute... you're Peri's... mother?" Instantly, his mind went into a whirlwind. It just wasn't possible!

The woman turned, giving him a sarcastic look to match the tone of her voice. "Well, who else would I be?" She turned and continued looking into the various rooms, making comments about the style and quality of the furnishings, making it sound as if they'd been pulled from a thrift shop rather than custom made by master craftsmen.

The Master clenched his hands into fists, biting his tongue figuratively and nearly literally to keep from speaking. If there was one thing he learned from watching human entertainment, it was that you didn't dare insult your wife's mother, no matter how horrid the woman was. Not unless you really wanted a divorce.

A sound came from upstairs. "Harry? Who's down there with you?"

"Your mother!" he called up, watching the woman in question with growing irritation.

"My... mother?" There was a pause. "Are you sure?"

"Ah, there she is!" the woman stated as if it was a great discovery. She started up the stairs. "Periwinkle... we need to talk."

"Absolutely right! We definitely need to talk!" the Gallifreyan agreed, though not on the same subject. How could Peri, his own wife, not tell him her mother was very much alive? Seeing said mother starting up the stairs, he rushed to block her path, not wanting this invader to get any further into his sanctuary than she already was. "She just stepped out of the shower. Perhaps you could wait for her in the den. I can have tea ordered... or something." Anything to delay the woman for long enough to get some answers from his bride.

"Oh, that won't be necessary. I've seen her naked from the day she was born so there's nothing I haven't seen." She turned to him. "You... on the other hand... what in the world possessed you to answer the door in a dressing robe... and a satin one to boot? You can see every curve on you, man. Not very decent in my opinion."

The Master stared at her, trying to interpret the expression on her face in conjunction with her words. While the phrases that escaped her mouth reflected disgust in his attire, the look in her eyes indicated that she was more than a little interested in seeing what was under his robe and what she could do with it. Just the thought of Peri's mother wanting him - her own son-in-law - caused him to pull the robe a little closer around him in an attempt to hide his "curves," as she had put it. He didn't get a chance to verbally react, however, as the current bane of his existence continued up the stairs.

"Periwinkle, dear. Where are you?"

Peri, having thrown on a tracksuit to cover herself, stormed out of the bedroom and marched up to her mother, who had just reached the second floor landing. "What the hell are you doing here?" she growled. "I'm on my honeymoon!"

"I was shocked - shocked, I tell you! - to hear from my butler - who'd seen it on the television no less - that you had married! Married and didn't even tell your mother. Oh, it's a bitter, bitter pill to have such an uncaring and selfish daughter. Don't you think it was... unseemly for a Langford to receive such news from a servant?!"

"Oh, please! Like you really give a damn about me. You just don't want your precious little name soiled," Peri replied, storming down the stairs.

The Master looked from Peri to the woman before realizing that the mother's attention was no longer on his... assets. Slinking away, he quickly returned to the bedroom in search of a change of clothes. As he dressed, he could hear the continued argument between the two women. Even though he'd been around humans before, this... insight... into dysfunctional families was quite disconcerting, especially since this was now _his_ family.

"Of course, I care about you, Periwinkle. Who sent you to the best schools money could provide? Who made sure that you had tutors to teach you all the right social graces? Introduced you to top level connections so your entry into proper society would be assured? Why would I do those things if I didn't care?" She looked at Peri's face carefully, tutting slightly as she noted the odd lines on it. "And speaking of caring... you really have let yourself go, darling. One word: make-up."

"Mother, stop it!" Peri bellowed at her, ignoring her crass comment about the scars on her face. "We've already gone over this before! You only did those things because that's what Langfords do. And that wasn't what I ever wanted. The only reason I went along with it was for Father." She paused and then raised her voice slightly more. "And I told you before! Don't call me Periwinkle!"

"I thought you didn't want me to call you Agnes."

The frustrated, suppressed scream from his mistress's lips was enough to make Reggie cringe as he walked into the house at that moment through the kitchen door, his arms filled with groceries. Quickly putting the items down on the nearest counter, he edged his way towards the location of the angered cry, hoping that he wasn't about to have to take sides - yet again - between the Master and Dr. Langford.

"It's not lady-like to make such sounds, Periwink..." The mother stopped. The look on her daughter's face was shooting arrows at her. "...Peri." She shook her head. "So common. Why would you prefer that?"

"I just do," came the reply. "Anyone who has ever really loved me has called me Peri, including Father. You're the only one who insists on calling me Periwinkle all the time."

"That is your given name. You should carry it proudly."

"Why? Because you gave it to me? Father wanted to name me Anna but you insisted on naming me after a bloody flower!"

"My mother named me after one... and she was named for one by her mother. I was just carrying on the Douglas tradition."

"Well, I'm a Langford, not a Douglas," Peri retaliated. "Just why are you here, Mother? Came to check him out, did you? Wanted to know what kind of 'trouble' I was up to? Because that's all you think I'm ever up to. Trouble."

"Only because that's all you've ever shown me. You graduated with top honors. You had offers from the leading scientific research programs. And what did you choose? A charity. Prometheus Institute. The worst thing is, you made it to CEO and then lost it to this... common sort who you then married. What were you thinking? You should have left your position the moment they lowered your status."

"If she had done that, I would have missed out on falling in love with the most remarkable woman in the whole universe," Harold Saxon stated as he walked down the stairs. Dressed in a track suit to match the one Peri was wearing, he gave the woman a disarming smile, determined to play nice-nice with the woman if only to get her out of his castle. Raising his voice, he called out, "Reginald, tea for three, please."

Reggie had been watching this match between the two women from the crack between the kitchen door and the frame. He was amazed by the similarity in appearance between his mistress and, he'd gathered, her mother. From his angle, he realized where Dr. Langford had gotten her intensity. He could only assume her other traits were her own or patterned after her father's. He was not in the least surprised by the Master ordering tea - the Time Lord always seemed to know when he was in the house. He immediately turned back to prepare the light meal.

"And who is this Reginald, then?" the mother questioned haughtily.

"My assistant," the Master replied briefly. "He makes an amazing tea." He gestured towards the den. "Shall we make ourselves comfortable?"

Peri rolled her eyes. "As if that could happen while my 'mom' is here." She knew the word was abysmal to her mother. The Americanized term acted like fingernails on a blackboard.

"If you must use a diminutive, please at least be British about it," the mother protested as she allowed the Master to guide her into the den.

"I thought you were Australian," the Gallifreyan commented. He gave a cheeky grin at his words.

"The Douglases are relative newcomers to Australia. We've only been here four generations. My great-grandfather was a peer in the British parliament. Retired to Australia when it was still a part of the Empire," she explained. "But I wager Peri's pedigree is far more luminous than that of the Saxons. You married well, sir."

The Master's smile dropped slightly at the insinuation of her words. "Yes, I know," he replied, although his words were more of a reflection of his own standards than that of Peri's mother. "I must admit, though, I've never heard of any Douglases in Parliament and I've known quite a few people in the British government. He must have been a lower ranking peer."

"He was a representative peer from Scotland. Served in the House of Lords for many years and was a well respected legislator. What has any Saxon done? I checked your bio which is provided by the Prometheus Institute. Oh, you've done well for yourself considering your beginnings, but really, man, do you really believe you're actually worthy of Peri?"

He gritted his teeth under a false smile, his nerves already reaching its end. "Probably not." He turned to Peri. "Darling, can I speak with you alone for a moment?" He walked out of the room quickly, needing distance between him and the woman who had inserted her arrogant, small-minded, prejudiced persona into his new domestic bliss.

Peri nodded. "Of course, dear." She noticed that Reginald was coming out of the kitchen at that moment, a silver tray laden with the tea and small sandwiches. "Reggie? This is my mother, Mrs. Camassia Langford. Would you please see she is well taken care of?" For a moment, Peri's mind went to one of the videos that her beloved had made for her that she knew Reggie had assisted on. Taking care of her that way would be too easy on her and then again, there was that whole matricide label. She sighed with resignation that such was only a fantasy, before leaving the room to follow her beloved.

The Master turned to the meaning of his existence the moment they were alone and out of earshot. "You said she was dead!" he growled at her.

"I never said she was dead. I said she was no longer in my life. Although I suppose I should have warned you."

"You suppose?" the Time Lord complained. "She's... she's..." He paused dramatically and then finished."...alive." The words were said ominously, almost reminiscent of Colin Clive's performance of Dr. Henry Frankenstein.

"I know, dear. I grew up with her." She cuddled up to Harry. "I'm sorry. I promise to make it up to you."

The Master tightened his hold on her, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, like a boy just waiting for Christmas morning. "Please... _Please_... let me kill her. I haven't killed anyone in months and it would feel _soooo _good to kill her."

"I wish that were possible, dear. Truly I do," Peri answered.

"Sure, it's possible! No one would miss that old biddy," he contradicted. "I could take her into the cellar! They'd never find her there!"

Peri considered his offer, her lips curling in a smile for a moment before she shook her head emphatically. "No. It's just not possible as much as I'd really appreciate the bitch getting hers."

"But... why not?" the Time Lord pouted.

"Because I promised Father."

He frowned at her words. "You promised your father that you wouldn't kill her?"

Peri looked at him confused. "No," she said slowly, "I promised him I'd take care of her."

"Well, I could do that for you quite easily. Still have that cellar, you know," he offered. "I'll make it quick, just for you. Bullet to the head..."

"Harry!" Peri reprimanded. "That's not what he meant when he asked me to take care of her. He wanted me to keep her safe."

"Then we can keep her in a cage. She'd be safe in a cage," the Master tried to convince her.

Peri appeared to consider it for a moment but then sadly shook her head. "No. He also wanted her to be happy."

"We can give her toys she can gnaw on to her heart's content! It would be like having a pet!"

"I'm sorry, dear. I may not do much to encourage her happiness, but I'm sure that a cage would _not_ make Mother happy. Toys or not." She gave him a kiss. "But thanks for trying."

The Gallifreyan hung his head slightly at her words but accepted her kiss. "All right," he grumbled. "But do we have to put up with her interrupting our peace? I was about to join you in the shower this morning when she ruined the whole thing!"

Peri reached her hand out to cup his face lovingly. "Were you, Harry? I would have loved that... your soaping me up and hands everywhere." She paused, closing her eyes to picture it in her mind. "Mmm." Just as quickly, though, she opened them again. "And no, we don't have to put up with her interruption. I'll just get her a suite at the Langham and she'll be quite..."

"No," came a firm and commanding response, the Master's face turning dark.

"Surely you don't want her staying with us!"

"Rassilon, no!" the Time Lord squeaked suddenly at the thought. "Just not the Langham." The expression on his face shifted into one of a wounded puppy. "Peri... that's _our_ hotel!"

She smiled. "Of course. What was I thinking?" She put her finger to her chin as she thought. "There's always the Stamford...or the Winsor..."

"Either of those is fine. Just not the Langham," he told her emphatically. "I don't want our hotel soiled by... _her_!"

"All right. I'll get Reggie on it right away." She gave him another kiss and then walked back to the living room, her husband following slowly. "Mother, I'm afraid staying here is just not a realistic possibility. I'll have Reggie book you a suite at the Windsor."

"Why would I want to stay in this rat trap?" Camassia commented with a slightly huff. "You had better make sure your manservant gets me the best suite. I won't put up with low standards."

"Please," the Master practically begged Peri, hoping for one last chance to kill the annoying woman.

Peri looked at him, telling him with her eyes he needed to mind his manners. "See there, Mother? Harry insists on the best suite for you. Reggie will see that taken care of post-haste." As she spoke, the man in question went into the other room to make the arrangements.

With the statement made, the woman's eyebrows rose a bit. "Hmm, yes. Well, maybe I misjudged your young man after all."

"Only the best for my wife's mother," Harry replied, smiling disarmingly. Anyone who really knew him, however, would see a hint of restrained madness in his eyes.

The three waited in silence, taking tea together as they waited for Torkinson's return. Reggie re-emerged a few moments later with the announcement that the suite of rooms had been booked.

"All right, then. I suppose I should leave you two to your honeymoon. Since you'd likely wish to be alone, I'll borrow your manservant while I'm here. Franz was unable to attend me on this trip."

The Gallifreyan's eyes blazed. "You will definitely n..." he started before Peri stepped in.

"...definitely need to borrow him... but only until we can find a suitable servant for you. Harry really does rely on Reginald so much as his personal assistant."

Reggie looked from one to the other as his fate was being decided. He was grateful to both the Master and his mistress that they would stand up to the old witch.

"You mean to tell me this man is... your husband's secretary?" Camassia exclaimed in surprise. "Where are your servants?"

"We choose to keep our privacy and Reginald is more than sufficient."

"Nonsense! One person to clean this whole house up? To cook the meals? To tend to the gardens and the grounds? No wonder this place is such a rat trap!" She huffed.

Reggie saw the Master's step forward and read his body language at an instant. "That may be, madam, but you will not need to stay a moment longer. Let me drive you to your hotel." He shuffled the woman out the door quickly, seeing that his actions had pleased Peri. A moment later, the two were out of the house and on their way to the Windsor.

The Master took a slow breath to calm his raging anger as he turned towards the woman he chose to spend the rest of his lives with. "Periwinkle," he growled dangerously. "If that... hag... comes within fifty feet of me or mine, your promise to your father or not... I'll kill her!"

His bride looked dismayed. "I don't like her anymore than you do, Harry. Normally I don't see her at all. This was the first time in over ten years that I've even set eyes on her. Please, just be nice to her."

"Nice?! _Nice_?!" the Master exploded.

"Okay. Poor choice of words. Just don't maim, batter, crush, disable, disfigure, dismember, harm, hog-tie, hurt, impair, incapacitate, injure, mangle, mar, massacre, maul, mutilate, vivisect, or wound her."

"Why the hell not?! And don't give me that you promised your father! That... creature... didn't even visit you in the hospital!"

"I'm not surprised," Peri said drily. "Mother was never... warm or all that caring."

"I'm not warm or all that caring either but I still stayed by your bedside every day, didn't I?"

"That's different." She sighed. "Please, Harry, for me. Just don't do anything to hurt her. Whether you like it or not, I will not dishonor my father's last request."

"Are you sure that I can't hog-tie her? That's a great idea."

Peri's lips turned up. "It is, isn't it?" The sides of her mouth dropped again. "But no."

"Can I hog-tie you instead?" he suggested.

Her lips rose again, this time lecherously. "Only if you promise to torture me a bit when you do."

The Master grinned broadly. "You really do love me!" As they made their way up the stairs to engage in the activity, he asked, "Strangle? You didn't say I couldn't strangle her..."

She ruffled his hair. "Oh, you're such a boy at hearts..." Then more serious, she finished. "...but no. Now, where did we put those ropes..."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_United States Virgin Islands_

_March 2010 _

After a day of fun in the sun at the beach, Jack and Rose went back to their rental and got ready to go out for dinner. "What would you like?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," Rose said, looking through her selection of clothes, thinking it was too bad she had to wear men's clothing. What she wouldn't do right now for a dress and a pair of high-heels. Just thinking of wearing a dress brought an idea to her mind. "We could..." She shook her head. "No, we couldn't. Not with me looking like... well... this."

"What?" the immortal man asked.

"Well, I was just thinking that the last time I ever danced with anyone was with you and the Doctor aboard the TARDIS."

"Dancing? You want to go dancing?" He smiled. "That can be accommodated."

Rose laughed at his words. "Don't be daft! I look like the poster boy for GQ magazine."

"And?" he asked, this voice indicating he didn't see a problem. "I'm sure we can find a gay bar. It wouldn't be strange there to see two men dancing."

"Me. In a gay bar," she said with a slight frown. She shook her head slightly. "I couldn't. What would my mum say?" She suddenly looked lost, remembering once again the circumstances that separated them.

Jack's went over to her and held her gently. "Your mum would say you need to live your life, Rose. Besides, you don't look like Rose Tyler. You look like Sam Beckett."

She turned to look into the mirror, regarding her reflection. She smiled slightly when she saw Jack come to her side and put his arm around her waist.

He grinned at her. "Besides, wouldn't you like to walk on the wild side?"

She chuckled at his playfulness. "You are so daft!" she taunted him. Tilting her head slightly, she couldn't help but think that Sam Beckett's aura and Jack's handsome face did make a cute couple. "Okay," she finally said bluntly.

"Alright, then. Dinner and dancing."

"If we're going to do this, you get to pick out my clothes. I may know what I like to see gents in but I'm not a gent myself so..."

Jack's grin broadened. "I get to dress Sam Beckett. Would rather undress him but there you go."

Rose slapped his arm playfully. Seeing the surprised look on his face, she told him, "Someone has to stand up for his honor."

Jack looked at her ruefully. "Trust me, he can do that quite well."

"And you would know that because..." she teased, checking her suitcase for the necessary undergarments. She had decided before they even left the United States mainland that she would definitely be more comfortable in boxers.

"Oh, just general reputation," Jack covered. "Al has a whole slew of names for him. Prudent Prince, Mr. Morals, that kind of thing."

"He sounds boring," Rose commented, retrieving the boxers she was looking for before slipping into the bathroom to undress.

"No. Not boring and he's incredibly tolerant of other's lifestyles. He just is rather... conservative in his personal choices."

"Well, I suppose you have to admire that," she said from inside the bathroom. "So, what are you picking out for me?"

He smiled. "Black pleated slacks and a green silk shirt," he replied, the items described in his hands.

"To show off his eyes, I suppose."

"He has great eyes."

"And I don't?"

"You've got lovely eyes, Rose Tyler," Jack said sincerely. He looked away for a moment. "I'm just saying that looking into Sam's eyes is like looking into..." He stopped. "But that's not important. Tonight is what's important and I'm going to show you the time of your life."

She stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in boxers, the clothes she had taken off in her hand. "Jack, can I ask you something?" she questioned as she put on the shirt he'd picked out for her.

"Sure. Anything."

"This may seem a bit forward but... do you have someone back home? I mean, waiting for you in England."

Jack shrugged. "Sort of. Not exactly but sort of. Ianto and and I are currently seeing each other regularly but it's not really serious. I've had a few other relationships. I even settled down a bit for awhile but she died a few years back."

"I'm sorry," Rose said gently.

Jack smiled. "Don't be. You know me. Anyone with a post code."

She laughed at his words. "You just keep telling yourself that but I know you better." She gave him a little smile of understanding. "But I'm glad that you had someone." She grabbed the trousers and slipped them on as she spoke. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to be alone. I feel awful that we didn't go back for you. I don't know why we didn't. It just sort of... happened." She sat on the bed to put on the shoes Jack gave her.

He nodded. "I know. I was pissed afterwards... for a long time, in fact. It still stings some, but I understand it more or less now."

"I'm sorry," she murmured again. "If I could relive it... I would've tried harder to convince the Doctor to go back."

"It's probably just as well," Jack said, cryptically. "Anyway, enough about me." Rose had finished dressing and he gave her a once over. "Fantastic," he said, approvingly.

She grinned at the compliment. "I'm hoping that you aren't just looking at Sam when you make that comment."

"Well, both of you fit the bill, that's for sure."

"What are you going to wear, oh captain, my captain?"

Jack spread his arms. "Already wearing it," he announced.

Rose looked him over, noting the dark blue trousers, sky blue shirt and red suspenders, a white t-shirt underneath. "That? Don't you wear anything else?"

"Hey, I like to be comfortable and quite frankly, this combination looks great on me."

"You're right. It does." She grinned widely at him. "Shows off those baby blues." Her grin got bigger. "You and the Doctor are two peas in a pod."

"I wish I could believe that."

"When it comes to fashion, I mean... and you both have great hair."

"Sam's not bad either," Jack responded, ignoring the statement about the Gallifreyan's coif. "We'll look great together tonight, sweetheart." He put his arm around her to lead her to the door. "Now, let's paint the town red."

Dinner was a resplendent affair even as Jack caroused her with tales of his past, making Rose forget all about the aura that surrounded her. After dinner, the two drove further into the city and, parking a block or so from their destination, walked comfortably to the front door of what could easily be mistaken as a jazz club. A walk through the door, though, showed that it most definitely favored a certain clientele.

"Oh, this is weird," Rose commented, giggling slightly. "I can't believe I'm doing this!"

"What?" Jack asked. "Just people out having fun."

"Yeah, but I'm the only girl here," she countered with a grin. "Good thing the Doctor isn't around. I can just imagine what he'd say."

"Well, there are a few women," Jack said, spotting a couple at a corner booth and another couple on the dance floor. "Granted mostly men and, at the moment, you look quite in place here."

She twirled her hair with her finger as she looked up into his eyes, not realizing that it looked as if Sam were twirling his finger in mid-air as she did so. "So... are you going to buy me a drink or what?"

Jack laughed at the hand gesture. "Oh, if that doesn't make you fit in here, I don't know what would." He answered her query. "You bet. What's your poison?"

"It's not like I've never been in a pub before. Used to sneak out of the house when Mum was asleep and meet my mates in this one pub. Had a fake ID and everything. I'll have a beer," she told him. She pointed out a table on the far end. "That table there, then?"

He nodded. "Okay... you grab the table. I'll get the beers." As he walked to the bar he called back, "And I was talking about your 'feminine moves,' girlfriend. Makes you look a bit of a Dorothy. Quite adorable."

She sighed. "Well, at least I'm fitting in," she mumbled as she sauntered to the table and slipped into a seat, taking a look around. As clubs went, it was a bit more posh than what she was used to. Then again, she doubted there were any upscale clubs around the Powell Estates. Seeing Jack approach with two beers in his hands, she grinned widely at him. "I'm having a great time, Jack. Thanks for breaking me out of that complex."

"No problem. At least we can have a little fun for a few days." A grin crept across his face. "Besides, getting to rub sunscreen on you today was definitely a moment to remember."

"Yeah, I just bet it was," she taunted him. "Bet that guy you sometimes see... what was his name?"

"His name's Ianto. Makes great coffee... among other things."

"Yeah, well, I bet if he'd been around, it would have been memorable in a different way all together. Namely you sleeping in the dog house."

"Oh, Ianto would have been okay with it. He knows me too well to cramp my style. We work together as well." He looked thoughtful. "The first time we met, though, I wasn't sure I was going to like him. Then he brought the group a flying pet and I began to want to know more about him."

"Never took you for a parakeet kind of person."

"I'm not."

"You don't look like a macaw kind of person either," she added.

He took a sip of his beer. "You've got to think bigger... and reptilian."

She looked at him incredulously. "Jack, there are no flying reptiles on Earth. Unless... it's an alien pet."

"Nope. One hundred percent native to Earth. Can I help it if a pterodactyl came through the rift?"

"A pterodactyl in the heart of Cardiff," she stated, staring at him as if he had lost his mind. "You keep a pterodactyl as a pet. Aren't you afraid of becoming its lunch?"

Jack shook his head. "She's been house trained."

"I bet that was a trick."

"Well, it took awhile... and it was great watching Ianto get all sweaty doing it." He didn't mention the fact that early on, he'd also played a role in training Myfanwy but only when he was alone in the Hub. The animal had eventually learned that no matter how many times she killed him, he just came back. She finally stopped killing him to his great relief.

A catchy tune started up. Jack looked over to his companion. "Would you like to dance?"

"That's why we came here, isn't it?" Rose stated more than asked, taking Jack's hand so that he could escort her to the dance floor.

As the two danced, both of them laughing and having a good time, neither of them noticed the gentleman with the camera phone, snapping pictures of them, an awed look on his face.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Project Quantum Leap_

_March 2010_

The project had been quiet for a few days. With Sam obviously still off the planet and Jack and Rose in the Virgin Islands, Al had time to catch up on some of the more nagging paperwork. Although they didn't have as much government input as before, Uncle Sam hadn't been willing to let go of the project one hundred percent. As a result, Al was in his office putting together the latest report to Washington. He was thus rather surprised when the phone rang and, upon answering, found he was talking to the former Mrs. Sam Beckett.

Donna Elesee had, several years before, decided that as much as she loved Sam she could no longer maintain her life as his wife. There had been a quiet divorce, seemingly uncontested by Sam. Now she was working out on the west coast, teaching for the Cal Tech physics department.

"Hi, Donna," Al said casually. "How are things?"

Donna didn't bother to be subtle about what was on her mind. "Al, why is Sam on the cover of the _American Inquisitor_? Please tell me it really isn't him."

"What?!" Al replied. "What are you talking about, Donna?"

"Have you seen the cover of the _Inquisitor_? If it's not him, it's certainly an excellent look-alike, right down to the white streak in his hair."

"I didn't think you read the _Inquisitor_, Donna."

"I don't," she replied, annoyance in her voice. "But you can't help but see it when you're standing in the check-out line at the grocery store and the headline screams 'Dr. Sam Beckett Found! Where's he's been hiding with his gay lover.' Please..." she emphasized. "Tell me it isn't Sam."

"Oh, shit! You're kidding me, right?" he asked, knowing she wasn't. In almost the same breath he said, quieter, "I knew this was a bad idea."

"What... was a bad idea?" Donna demanded. When an answer wasn't forthcoming, she pressed, "Al... Sam's still leaping, right?"

"Well, yeah. In a sense. This last one's been a record. Going over a month now."

"A month?! The latest leap has been going on for a month?!" she exclaimed. "What could Sam possibly have to fix that would take a month?" A moment later, realization clicked into place. "Al…is the guest still in the Waiting Room? Please, don't tell me the guest is in the Virgin Islands... with a very attractive man," she added, obviously looking at the cover of the _Inquisitor _as she spoke and admiring the other person in the photo. "Definitely an attractive man."

"Um... well... you know we've been funded though alternative means the last few years. You remember. I told you that we had to do that to keep the project alive?"

"What does your funding have to do with my husband's face being on the cover of a tabloid newspaper?"

Al bit at his lip. "He's not technically your husband anymore, Donna."

"Ex-husband, then. Doesn't mean that I don't care for him. And I still want to know why the _Inquisitor _is saying that our marriage ended because he has a gay lover."

"Well, the new director decided that under the circumstances, the leapee deserved a little R&R."

"A little R&R," Donna repeated sarcastically. "In a gay dance club in the Virgin Islands?"

"I didn't know he'd do that, Donna, but come to think of it, I should have seen that coming like a Mack truck. Jack's rather... free. I guess it was rather naive to think they'd stay at the house and beach and not go into town."

"So, you let this new obviously gay director take the guest... who's wrapped in Sam's aura... not only out of the complex but also out of the country," she accused incredulously.

"Well, since it's unlikely that Sam's going to leap anytime soon, it seemed like a good idea at the time. And it's not like they had to get passports or go through customs."

She huffed at his words. "Just like you to think something like _this _is a good idea."

Al listened to her tone and clarified, "Just to be clear, Donna, I thought the trip was a good idea. Not the gay dance club. I didn't know about that."

Ziggy decided at this moment to make her presence known. "Admiral, I've been monitoring your conversation. Based on Dr. Elesee's statements, I've been able to pull up a copy of the cover of the _Inquisitor _she is referring to. Please check your monitor."

Al saw the picture of what looked to be Captain Jack Harness and Dr. Sam Beckett dancing rather intimately. Under his breath, he stated with a passion to his voice, "I'm going to kill him!"

"Me first," Donna told him bluntly. "Who is this guy anyway?"

"He's the man who's been keeping the project alive the last few years. Without him, we'd have lost Sam for certain."

"Well, if he keeps this up, Sam's reputation will be ruined for sure! I don't want him coming home to find the whole world thinks he has some handsome man-honey in the closet."

"I'll take care of it, Donna." He wasn't sure how, but they needed to do some major damage control.

She sighed. "Good luck. This tabloid just happens to be the American bestseller of them all."

"Yeah. No one said it was going to be easy."

After a brief exchange of farewells, Al hung up with Donna. Within what seemed to be minutes, he got another call. This time it was Tom Beckett calling for the family and wanting to know what the hell was going on. Al calmed him down and, though agreeing with him that the man looked amazingly like Sam, he knew for certain it wasn't him. Once that was taken care of, he wrote up a press release to go out on all major media channels that Sam Beckett was nowhere near the Virgin Island's at present. He knew this would bring up questions as to where Sam was again. The press release simply indicated that Dr. Beckett was unavailable for comment at this time.

"Make sure that gets into the media outlets where it will do the most good," Al told Ziggy. "And get Jack on the phone. We need to talk."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Melbourne, Australia_

At the Prometheus Institute, Lothos noted with fascination the tabloid article concerning the sudden appearance of a person resembling Sam Beckett, as well as the quick redaction which stated that the person in question only strongly resembled the missing physicists. Not believing in coincidences, he took the necessary precautions and sent a couple of his agents to the United States Virgin Islands in order to investigate who this person was. If he was just some person who shared a remarkable similarity to the time traveler, the agents had orders to let the man be. But if he was in fact the good doctor or one of Sam's leapees, they were to insure that the Nobel Prize physicist would die a tragic death.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_United States Virgin Islands_

_March 2010 _

_Three days after the gay bar_

The day after Jack and Rose had enjoyed an evening on the town - culminating in dancing at the gay dance club - Rose couldn't help giggling as she recounted the fun she'd had the night before. She told Jack that after the initial trepidation she didn't even pay attention to the fact that she looked like a man to everyone else. The night had just rushed away with laughter and stories, making for an evening that she knew she would remember for the rest of her life.

Now, it was a day and a half later and Jack Harkness was escorting her back to their rented beach house, having enjoyed a lunch in a little pub only a few miles from where they were staying. He'd just helped Rose out of the Jeep when his Blackberry rang.

"Harkness," he answered, a lilt in his voice that conveyed his good mood.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Al's voice left no question that he was upset.

"And hello to you too, gorgeous," Jack countered back. "Right now, I'm dressed in only a pair of thongs which really shows off my..."

"Cut the crap, Jack. Do you know what you're doing to Sam's reputation?" He paused but not long enough for Jack to get a word in edgewise. "Not to mention that his mother is upset now as well. And that doesn't even start to address how his brother, sister and ex-wife feel about what they've seen."

Jack blinked for a moment, motioning Rose to go on in the house without him as he stood on the veranda. "What exactly have you and the Beckett clan seen that have your knickers in bunches? And how am I supposedly involved in this unexplained disaster?"

"Did you go dancing with Rose in a gay bar?"

"Um... well... even if we did," the Captain said frowning, "how would you know?"

"Well, let's just say a whole hell of a lot of people know about that or at least think they do. At least anyone who's looked at the cover story of the_ American Inquisitor_. You know, that cheesy rag that is prominently displayed in every grocery store in the country?"

Jack shook his head. "Either I really shouldn't have had that beer during lunch or you just said that everyone and his mother knows I was out dancing with Rose because of a tabloid newspaper."

"That's what I said, Jack. I know this is the same newspaper that keeps saying 'Elvis is alive and well and here's the proof' but now they're playing the same game with Sam. You know he hasn't been seen for years. We've had the cover story that he's chosen to become a recluse. Now there are questions as to whether his divorce was because of his boy toy." Al paused and then added, "That would be you."

A laugh emanated from the former Time Agent. "I am many things, Al. But I don't think I've ever been called someone's boy toy. It's just talk. What, they have a picture or something?"

"Yeah, they have a picture. You and Sam for all practical purposes cheek to cheek." Al huffed. "You two are on the freaking cover!" He calmed down a little. "I've already put out a press release that whoever this man is, it's not Sam."

Jack leaned against the side of the house. "Al, it was a little dancing in a secluded little dance club. She wanted to go out dancing. I wanted to go out dancing. Where would you have me take her? To a regular dance club where we would have stuck out like a sore thumb? I'm surprised anyone even recognized his face."

"Couldn't you have just danced at the house?" Al sighed. "Well, water under the bridge now. As to recognizing him, since he's been gone, stories appear from time to time although they're usually more in the realm of 'whatever happened to' type of stories. This one was a bombshell."

"Real bombshells explode, Al. Bombshell stories of missing people being seen like Elvis are more likely to be duds." He took a breath. "But if it helps, we'll keep to the house and go a bit stir crazy. Just for you."

"Maybe you should just consider coming back," Al suggested hopefully. "I did put in the press release that Sam was nowhere near the Virgin Islands."

"So much for the house then. You know the paparazzi. They hear that someone isn't somewhere, that person has to be there somewhere." There was a pause. "Has the real Sam Beckett shown up on the radar?"

"Not yet, but you know that could happen at any moment."

"Yes, it can," Jack told his friend. "But until it does, Rose and I are having a great time. So, if we can't stay here, I'll just book a private plane and go somewhere else. I figure we may be gone another week or so, depending on the ways of the wind."

Al reached his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched. "Why did I know you were going to say something like that?" He let out a breath. "So where the hell are you going?"

"I don't know. Maybe Miami."

"Miami!" Al exclaimed. "You can't..."

"Sure I can. But I'll keep Sam's aura under wraps. No more tabloids, Al."

The older man sighed again. "Fine. Just lay low, okay? Don't go out much and when you do, make sure Sam's more incognito."

"You mean Rose. Sam's still with the Doctor," Jack corrected teasingly. "Besides, if what you say is true... don't you think he's hot in that green silk shirt?"

"Yes, I know Sam's still with the Doctor. Why is beyond me but it is what it is," Al said, resigned. "However, Sam is who people see so give his aura a low profile. As to the other..." Suddenly he had a picture in his mind. "You're not... I mean... the two of you aren't..."

"As tempting as the prospect may be to have two gorgeous faces with me in the same bed but only have one body... No. We're not. Rose and I have never had that sort of relationship. So, put away your shotgun, daddy. Your little girl is still safe from the big bad wolf."

"Good. Keep it that way," Al said. He finished the call and hung up, hoping that this tabloid situation would resolve itself soon.

Jack shut off his cell phone, slight disappointment on his face. _Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted_, he thought as he tucked the phone away and walked into the house.

"Was that Al on the phone?" Rose questioned with a grin. "You shouldn't tease him like that, you know."

"Yeah," Jack said, a slight frown on his face. " Unfortunately, he's become even more of a fuss bucket than normal."

"Well, if you continue to flirt with a married and completely heterosexual man..." she started.

"That's not why he's upset." He stopped for a moment and then looked Rose in the eyes, "We were seen. More than that, we were photographed."

"And?" she questioned before realization came to her. "Oh. You mean, you and Sam Beckett were seen and photographed," she translated. "Or at least that's what the photo shows."

"Exactly. Since Sam has always been firmly in the heterosexual camp, Al's afraid that these photos will be interpreted by some as showing something else. Some might even see this as the reason for his divorce."

"So... where did we get seen?"

"During our dancing excursion." He grinned. "I guess I'm supposed to be the one who turned his head."

"If it were anyone, it would be you, Jack," Rose complimented, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she smiled. "So, I guess we're going back then," she continued, her tone changing to reflect her opinion on the matter. "And we were having so much fun."

He shook his head. "No. We'll have to move to another location. The camera hounds will be looking for Sam here. I told Al we're going to Miami but, even there, when we do go out, you'll need to 'disguise' yourself a little. You deserve this respite from the waiting room and I'll be damned if you don't get it. Besides, there's still time before Sam might leap."

The smile returned. "You seem so certain about that." She let the matter go, knowing that Jack wouldn't tell her why he was certain. "All right. Scarf and sunglasses from now on. Well, figuratively speaking anyway."

"Yes, sunglasses. No to scarf. If they do get another picture, that would just solidify things for the tabloids. I'm thinking Al would very much appreciate you wearing a baseball cap or something," Jack told her. He gestured her towards her room. "Better get packing. We've got a plane to catch."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Inside the TARDIS_

The last few weeks had been a roller coaster for the three travelers but now, after dropping off his friend, Jordgen Pelz, now known as Genardt Penzel, the Doctor felt they had experienced quite enough off-Earth excitement for a while. Sam was fully recovered from Zante's Bronchial Influenza although it would be a few days before he had all of his energy back. Glad, on the other hand, was still showing signs of post-traumatic stress, due to having been kidnapped by underground slave traders and tormented while they were on the capital planet of the Great Meridian Conglomeration. Fortunately, the girl hadn't been assaulted sexually while she was missing, thanks to Pelz' connections in finding her and helping the Doctor bring her safely back to the TARDIS.

The Doctor was now spending his time checking and rechecking the coordinates. He was going to land where he expected and end Sam's comments about his 'driving skills' once and for all. Everything seemed exactly on profile and so he leaned back in the Captain's chair awaiting the return of his two current companions, who had apparently decided swimming in the library pool was to become a daily event. The Gallifreyan didn't mind the activity in the least: it helped both Sam and Glad with their recoveries, giving Sam the exercise he needed to rebuild his strength and giving Glad the confidence she needed to cope with the events she endured.

He found that as he considered them, his mind turned again to Rose. He wondered how she was holding up at Project Quantum Leap. Oh, he knew that Jack would make sure that she was comfortable but... He sighed, knowing that his concern for her safety had more to do with his missing her than anything else. He couldn't wait to hold her in his arms again, return her beaming smile, and take her hand and run as fast as they could...usually away from something that was seriously dangerous. Only this time, he knew in his hearts that Glad would be holding his other hand. He found himself genuinely smiling at the thought.

Sam and Galadriel returned to the console room, cleaned up and fresh after their swim. Even as they did so, the TARDIS jolted hard, forcing the three of them to grab hold of the nearest object, namely the console. "What?" the Time Lord exclaimed, clinging tightly to the console as he pulled the monitor to where he could see it. "Oh, no! Not again! What in the Eternal's realm is wrong with you lately?" he berated the timeship.

Sam looked askance. "What was that?"

"We're being pulled off course... again!" the Gallifreyan exclaimed. Another jolt rocked the TARDIS, sending the Doctor to the floor while Glad stumbled into the Captain's chair.

"Can't you fix it?" she complained, gripping the chair.

"I'm trying!" he answered with a growl.

"You got a barfbag anywhere?" Sam asked, his face looking a shade greener.

"I don't get motion sick," the Doctor replied, getting to his feet only to fall again when another hard jolt hit.

"I do," Sam said, heading out the console room to find a place he could toss his cookies.

As suddenly as it had started, the TARDIS was motionless, the atmosphere heavy with uncertainty. In the distance, the sound of Sam vomiting hit the Doctor's and Glad's ears, causing the Time Lord to wince with sympathy. "Sorry," he murmured as he found his feet again, helping Glad to stand as well. "Are you all right?" Seeing her nod an affirmation, he called towards Sam. "Sam, are you all right?"

The leaper called back, "Not really but as long as we don't go on another roller coaster anytime soon, I'll be okay."

"She shouldn't have done that," the Time Lord complained, walking around the console with a frown on his face. "This is impossible. I quadruple checked everything! We shouldn't have been pulled off course. Well... maybe a few hours or so but this?" He pulled out his specs, perching them on his nose to get a better look at the instruments on the console. "Coordinates are still set to New Mexico 2009. Directional locator is working just fine. Dimensional stabilizer... well... that's always been a little off but it shouldn't have made us quake like that. Where and when are we exactly?" Pulling the monitor towards him yet again, his frown grew. "What?!"

"What's... what?" Sam asked, walking back into the room and hearing the Doctor's last word, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"We're in Peru!" the Gallifreyan informed him. "Same time frame that I programmed but completely the wrong place. And that's not possible."

"I thought we were going to New Mexico. Can't we just skip Peru?" Sam asked, a little down that he still hadn't made it home.

"You don't get it, Samuel. We're in Peru!"

"Yeah... and?" He sighed. "I just want to go home."

"And I want you to go home. I really do. I made absolute sure that the coordinates were correct and that the TARDIS would land in New Mexico. Even her being an old ship would not account for the coordinates being this off twice since I met you, especially since they've been fairly accurate for the last several centuries. Well... it did land in 1869 instead of 1969 but I think that was my fault."

"Well then, why don't we just reset the coordinates and leave?" Sam questioned.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" the Doctor questioned, his attitude instantly changing. "We're here, aren't we? Let's go out and explore! Besides, Glad's never been to Peru. Have you?" he called back, pleased that Glad had already followed him down the ramp. "Stop being a spoiled sport, Sam! You'll love it!"

Before Sam could say anything, the Doctor and Glad left the TARDIS to find themselves standing in the middle of a well-adorned living room. The Gallifreyan frowned, looking around the room with intense eyes. "I know this place," he murmured to himself, carefully walking around the room, his eyes searching.

"Sam?" Glad called back towards the timeship. "Come on!"

"I'm coming," he answered. He sighed once more and exited the TARDIS. "We were pulled off course to visit a living room? A Peruvian living room?"

"Not just any living room," the Time Lord told him. "I've been here before. Long time ago." He looked around again. "Still exactly the way I remember it. Which means..."

As he spoke, an elderly lady hurried into the room, a stunned look on her face. "Doctor?" she asked hesitantly but hopefully.

The Doctor gave her a half smile. "Doris," he greeted. A moment later, he found himself returning a hug from her.

Glad quickly moved behind Sam, uncertain about the strange woman that had come into the room. Her time in captivity had already told her that someone could appear to be friendly and be exactly the opposite. And though she wasn't afraid of other people anymore, she still wasn't comfortable without her support structure in place, namely either the Doctor or Sam within reaching distance.

Doris pulled away and held the Doctor's shoulders. "Let me look at you now. I like the look. It's a kind face." She smiled. "Hair's a bit wilder, though."

"Well, got to take the good with the good, eh?" He grinned widely at his words. "Last time I saw you I had long curly hair, right? Blimey, that was a while ago. You look absolutely lovely. Not a day over fifty," he complimented, causing the latter to blush slightly. He glanced around the room again. "Is Alistair around?"

Doris's face fell. "You wouldn't know, would you. Of course you wouldn't, flying around time and space like you do. It's amazing you can keep a schedule."

His own face dropped with concern. "Wouldn't know what?" Seeing her shake slightly, he took her arm and gently guided her to the nearest seat, kneeling in front of her so that he was at eye level. "Doris, what's wrong?"

"They've taken Alistair. Right off the street in downtown Lima. I don't know where he is."

The Doctor's eyes widened for a moment before lowering in sympathy, pulling her into his arms again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He took a slow breath, as if to gather his thoughts, before repeating, "I'm so sorry, Doris." Slowly, he stood up. "Need a pot of tea, I think. Good cuppa will at least make things a little more... manageable." He turned and started towards the kitchen.

Sam watched the situation unfolding. He knew Glad was still behind him. He could sense that this woman was no threat to her. As the Doctor walked out of the room, he introduced his host. "Ma'am? I'm Rose Tyler and this is Glad Thatcher. Are you saying this Alistair has been kidnapped?"

"My husband," Doris clarified. "Why would anyone want to kidnap him? He's a good man." She swallowed down her anxiety quickly. "You travel with him, don't you? The Doctor."

Sam nodded. "I have been recently."

Doris looked at the younger girl, a small smile on her face. "A bit shy?" she questioned. "It's okay. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to."

Even as she spoke, the sound of the Imaging Chamber door announced Al's arrival. "Oh, Sam! We were so worried about you! Where were you for the past three weeks?"

Sam's head turned towards his dapper friend. "Three weeks?" he questioned. "It's been three weeks?"

Glad burrowed deeper into Sam's shoulder.

"The girl hasn't spoken in three weeks?" the elderly woman questioned. "Oh, you poor dear!"

Al rolled his eyes at her words. "Sam, is there some place we can talk in private without Miss Marple?"

Sam looked back at Doris, a confused look on his face. Suddenly he realized what she'd said. "Um, no. Glad speaks fine. I just was thinking the last place I went with the Doctor, I was gone three weeks."

Glad peeked around. "Don't let him fool you. He was talking to his imaginary friend."

"Oh?" Doris questioned, looking at Sam with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not imaginary! I'm just... hard to see," Al protested. He looked at his best friend. "Sam..." he nudged verbally.

Sam licked at his lips and he turned and gave Glad a glare. Turning back to Doris, he tried to explain. "If you've been around the Doctor, which you obviously have, then you know things can get a little caca... in fact..." He suddenly noticed the scent of something burning. It was coming from the kitchen. "Excuse me..." As he started moving towards the other room, Glad clung to him harder. "Glad, I think the Doctor needs me."

"But..." she started.

"What am I?" Al questioned. "Chopped liver?"

Sam rolled his eyes at Al. "I'm sure Doris won't hurt you, Glad. Al will let me know if you need me. Let me help him."

Doris gave her a small smile. "It's okay, dear," she encouraged. "Just wait here while Rose goes and checks on him." She sniffed the air. "Smells like something's burning."

Glad reluctantly let Sam go, looking suspiciously at Doris. She still wasn't sure but she knew Sam wouldn't lie to her.

Al sighed in frustration. "Sam..." he started, watching the physicist leave the room. "Great. Three weeks out of the loop and he leaves me to babysit."

Sam, meanwhile, went into the kitchen. He saw the Doctor standing and staring, apparently not even aware of what was going on about him. "Doctor?" Sam began.

The Doctor didn't move, his back towards Sam, his hands using the counter as a support, as if he wouldn't be able to stand without it.

Sam moved closer to the man who'd in the short time he'd known him had become a friend. He put a hand on the Time Lord's shoulder. "Doctor, what's wrong?"

The Gallifreyan pulled away quickly, startled by the touch. Turning his head to see the source, he sniffed and quickly wiped his face with one hand, removing the telltale evidence that told he had been crying. "Sam," he said quietly. He sniffed again and grimaced. "Aww! What's that smell?" He quickly identified the source of the stench being the kettle on the stove. "Nothing worse than burned tea! How idiotic am I? You don't rip open the tea bags and dump the leaves into the kettle! You'd think I'd never made tea before." Grabbing a potholder, he pulled the kettle off of the stove and put it in the sink, turning the water on to cool it. "Let's see… Doris has a spare kettle somewhere around here."

"This isn't about tea," Sam press gently.

"What isn't?" the Doctor hedged.

"Everything that's happened with you since we materialized here. This has something to do with someone named Alistair. Who is he?" He nodded towards the living room. "And who is she?" he finished.

The Time Lord started another kettle, being careful to not make the same errors as before. "Brigadier General Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, retired. She's his wife, Doris," he answered.

Sam nodded. "You know something about this, don't you." He'd experienced knowing something in an original history that no one else did and, at this moment, all the signs were pointing to the Doctor being in that situation.

The Gallifreyan swallowed tightly at his words. "Yes," he answered bluntly, his focus on pulling down the rest of the items needed for making tea, including a very colorful cozy for the teapot.

"Was Alistair one of your companions? Before he met Doris?" Sam thought back to Harry and Sally.

He chuckled slightly at Sam's words. "More like the bane of my existence for three miserably marvelous years. He was so bloody thick at times I just wanted to lock him in a cupboard until he saw things properly."

Sam smiled lightly. "A friend." He thought back to the times when he was back at the project and he and Al were working on something together. The physicist recognized the same familiarity in the way the Doctor talked about this man.

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed softly. "Close friend. About five hundred years ago... Well, five hundred years for me... the Time Lords put me on trial, found me guilty of breaking the First Law of Time, and exiled me to Earth. I already knew the Brigadier from a previous visit. When I was exiled, we came to an arrangement where he would provide me with supplies and a lab so I could try to figure out how to get the TARDIS working again. In exchange, I became a scientific advisor for the military organization he headed. Three years later, after helping the Time Lords with a bit of a problem, they lifted the exile. But by then, Alistair had become a dear friend."

"First Law of Time?" Sam asked. "There are laws?"

The Doctor winced. "I wasn't very good at keeping them. Have to be now, though. No one to pick up the pieces except for me."

Sam tilted his head. "What's the first law?"

"Thou shalt not interfere," the Time Lord paraphrased. "Never did keep that law. I interfere all the time. Well... when things can be interfered with."

Sam huffed a breath. "That's all I've done since I started leaping."

The Gallifreyan gave him a dark look. "You're different than me. You interfere knowing exactly how history played out. You interfere with things that shouldn't be touched." His eyes grew soft at his own words. "One cannot change time deliberately. Even if you want to. Especially if you want to." Hearing the kettle whistle, the Gallifreyan pulled the now-boiling water from the stove. He poured a little into the teapot, swirled it around and then dumped it in the sink. He then filled the teapot with the water and added several teabags to let them steep while he arranged the teapot, cups and saucers on a tray.

Sam shook his head. "It depends," he told the Doctor as he worked. "That's what I'm sent to do." He thought back to Maggie's death and Al's longer incarceration when he'd saved his brother. "Sometimes the price is too high."

"The price is always too high. Trust me on that." He took a couple of deep breaths, neither of which seemed to help the rising anger he was feeling. Grabbing a cup, he threw it across the room, shattering it against a cabinet door. Seeing what he had done, he gave a sick laugh. "Don't think Doris is going to be too happy with me about that."

Doris came running. "What happen..." She saw the shards of china on the ground and looked to the Doctor. "Why…?" she trailed off.

Al abruptly appeared in the kitchen, his eyes wide. "Sam, what the hell is going on in here? Glad is all worked up and I'm sure the old lady is about to call the cops!"

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Doris," he told her. "I'll clean it up and get you a new one." He crouched down and started to pick up the shards.

Doris watched the Doctor and lowered herself beside him. She put her hands over his. "You're worried too."

The Time Lord slowly raised his head, looking into her eyes. "Terrified," he admitted. With a shaky breath, he pulled her tightly against him, letting his pent up emotions release as she brushed his hair.

Sam moved over to Al. "Have Ziggy check out Brigadier General Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, retired."

"Oh, his mother must have hated him, giving him a name like that," Al commented, punching buttons on the handlink, keeping his voice low as he remembered that the Doctor could hear him as well. "Here we are. Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. Same one, I'm assuming, as Ziggy can't find a record of anyone else with that name. Not that anyone else would likely be given the name. Ziggy said that statically, that's about as unique as you can get." Seeing Sam's glare, he looked down at the handlink and continued. "Let's see… member of the British Navy since he was old enough to join… Good choice for a career, if you ask me. I'm liking this guy already. Rose through the ranks to Brigadier General and became head of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce... Oh... Now it's called the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. Apparently, the United Nations will flip the bill but doesn't want their name involved. Retired in the mid-eighties. Brought back out of retirement temporarily in the late eighties. Retired again. Knighted by the Queen. Spent his retirement going back and forth from England to Peru." He hesitated. "Uh-oh," he muttered.

"Uh-oh? That doesn't sound good, Al."

"No, it isn't," the Admiral agreed. "Two days ago, Sir Alistair was kidnapped while on a trip to Lima. Snatched right off the street in full view of twenty witnesses. No one saw who grabbed him but the general consensus was that they were rebel fighters. There were no leads on where they took him. He's finally found in forty-eight hours. Dead from a gunshot wound to the back of his skull."

As Sam listened, his face blanched. He nodded. "What does Ziggy show as odds I'm here to change that?"

"Ninety-eight percent chance you're here to keep Lethbridge-Stewart from being killed," Al answered. "Provided that you are allowed to do what you need to do, that is." The Admiral nodded towards the Doctor, who clung to Doris as he sobbed.

Glad had finally moved into the kitchen. She saw the Doctor obviously upset and talking with the woman. Sam was talking into thin air. Glad felt totally alone. She decided to go back into the TARDIS. At least she felt safe there.

Sensing Glad's presence, the Doctor turned his head towards the door. Sniffing slightly, he slowly stood up. "I'm going to... go check on Glad," he told Doris, ignoring Sam's conversation with Al. "It's a pretty rough time for her right now. I'll... clean up the cup later." He slowly walked out of the kitchen, passing Sam and Al without a second glance as the two continued.

"I'll do it, Al," Sam told his holographic friend. "That's probably why I leapt in so soon."

"What do you mean, so soon? You've been floating around in Rose Tyler's aura for over two months now."

Sam nodded to the Doctor. "I mean if I'm going to do this, he can't try to stop me." He stayed in thought for a moment. "Al, go back and get everything you can on what happened with this Alistair. I mean everything. Have Ziggy work on it exclusively if necessary."

His friend nodded at the instruction. "Will do," he replied, punching the orders into the handlink. "Mind you, this was only a short while ago so it could be a bit difficult getting everything from the British and Peruvian governments but..." He gave Sam another nod as he opened the Imaging Chamber door. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to convince the Doctor that I've found my mission." He turned to the woman that was on the floor, picking up the shards. "Ma'am, stay strong. I'm sure that Alistair will be back safe." He followed after the Doctor and the young girl, determination permeating him.

"Good luck," Al answered with a hint of disbelief that Sam could convince the Doctor of anything. Stepping through the Imaging Chamber door, he shook his head slightly before disappearing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Glad," the Doctor called out as he walked into the living room, seeing her open the TARDIS door.

She turned. "What's wrong? You're upset and Sam's talking with that invisible guy."

"A dear friend of mine is going to die," he told her quietly. "And I can't stop it. No one can stop it."

"Why can't you stop it?" she asked. "I mean if you know it's going to happen..."

He exhaled slowly, walking up to her and touching her shoulder. "Because it's part of my past. You can't change your own history. The ramifications of doing so are too great."

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a sad smile. "Thanks," he breathed. Lowering his eyes, he swallowed. "Still... at least I'll be here to console Doris when the time comes."

Sam, who had just entered the living room, noted that the usual effervescence that the Doctor exuded was definitely lacking. He overheard the last thing that the Gallifreyan said. "You won't have to console her."

The Gallifreyan frowned strongly at Sam's words. "What do you mean? I'm not going to neglect my friend..." His face dropped as he realized what Sam was thinking. "No," he said firmly.

"Yes," Sam nodded. "Don't you see? This is what I've been sent here to do."

"You weren't sent here! You abstracted my friend's life and, as a result, came here with me in the TARDIS. You leave history alone. Changing even one tiny event can have consequences so massive that it could destroy space-time itself! I can't allow that to happen."

"You forget, Doctor, I've been doing this for quite some time. Space-time hasn't been destroyed. It might have worked that way for the Time Lords, but God, Fate, Time, or Whatever seems to want me to do just that."

Glad looked between the two men. "Maybe Sam is right."

"You've been lucky so far. Just luck. I've been traveling for far longer than you," the Time Lord told him darkly. "I know the consequences of changing history. There is no such thing as fate or time or whatever causing others to change things for them. It doesn't happen. Trust me. I have priors. If you make one more change, it could be the one that brings the Reapers."

"Reapers? What are the Reapers?"

"Really nasty chronovores which destroy time. Normally they only exist in the time vortex unless someone is stupid enough to rip open time and let them into this reality. Which is what you are going to do if you keep altering history without any consideration of fixed points in time," the Gallifrayan replied walking into the TARDIS as if to end the conversation right then and there.

Sam let out a sigh, following the Doctor inside, dogging him at every step. "Listen. I don't know what you mean by fixed points. And you may have been traveling longer but, for whatever reason, what I change doesn't appear to be anything like that. I know what I was sent to do. The bartender all but told me that I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to do."

Glad made her way into the TARDIS as well and closed the door, her eyes moving from one friend to the other as she listened to them argue opposite opinions.

"You're going to listen to a bartender instead of a nine hundred year old Time Lord whose entire race made a complete study of time?" the Doctor asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Since he seemed quite capable of making sure I've been in the right place at the right time for as long as I've been leaping, yeah. I'm going to listen to him."

The Doctor folded his arms. "A bartender? You're going to listen to a... bartender. What does he do? Makes you a few fuzzy navels and puts these ridiculous notions in your thick head?"

Glad started stomping her feet. "No. Both of you, stop it now." She looked at the Doctor. "What if he's right? What if you're not supposed to comfort that poor old lady out there? What if Sam's supposed to make sure her husband comes home alive?" She looked into Sam's eyes, her attitude softening. "You have the same look that Father John had when he preached to us at the church. I think God's working through you."

The Gallifreyan dropped his arms at her words. "Believe me, Glad. I would love it if that were true. But it's part of my personal history, which means that this event is fixed for me. I can't change it. I doubt that even the hand of God can change it. If you believe in Him."

"I do believe in Him. And you're not changing anything. Sam will. You might not be able to change your own life, but maybe someone else can. Can't you accept Sam's help?"

"No," he said quietly, not wanting to concede her point for fear of reliving the past in even more detail than he was now.

"I checked with Al," Sam informed him. "Ziggy's giving this a 98 plus probability. I'm sure I'm here to save him."

A huff came from the older man. "Now, you are listening to a computer."

"Not just any computer. Ziggy. You listen to the TARDIS."

"The TARDIS is a sentient life form, not an amalgamation of electrical circuits!"

"Ziggy uses my brain cells in a biological matrix in her core computer chips. She may not be a sentient life form but she's as close as any human computer has ever been."

"Sound more like a Cyberman to me," the Time Lord muttered derogatorily.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "There is nothing about Ziggy that is remotely similar to the Cybermen."

The Doctor sighed, seeing the expression on Sam's face. "I know. I'm sorry," he murmured apologetically. He lowered his head, not looking at either of his companions.

Sam spoke up again. "Now, I'm going to do this with or without your help. I'd prefer to have you along."

The Gallifreyan raised his eyes towards his friends. He wasn't used to feeling ganged up on. Well, there were a couple of times when Rose and Jackie had cornered him into watching something on TV he really wasn't interested in or into going to the grocery store for them. But neither instance involved altering history on a massive scale and certainly didn't affect his past. Just seeing the determination to save the Brigadier on Sam's face brought the memories of that time in his life even more to the forefront of his mind.

He clearly remembered the day Alistair had died. After all, his eighth incarnation had been the one to find the body. He'd conveyed the sad news to Doris, providing comfort to her afterwards and helping her with the funeral arrangements. When he had been here on that fateful day, Doris never said anything about a different incarnation having been there before he arrived. As such he knew he would have to leave in the next couple of days before his younger self came, just to make sure that he didn't meet himself. It would be the most logical solution to the keep history safe, as painful as the act would be for him. However with Sam's determination and the faith in Glad's eyes, he couldn't let them down at that moment. He'd go with Sam, yes... but he wouldn't help him. If anything, he'd have to hinder the leaper's efforts in order to preserve the timeline. He just hoped that his two companions weren't right and he wasn't about to break Doris' heart for naught. He exhaled loudly. "All right. At the very least, I can keep you from getting yourself killed." He pointed at Sam. "You're still in my friend's life and I still want her back safe."

"I don't want anything bad to happen to Rose either," Sam promised. He turned to Glad. "This is going to be too dangerous for you, though. I'm sure you'll be fine with Doris until we get back. If the Doctor says you can trust her, you need to trust him."

Glad looked at the Time Lord for a long moment. "Doctor?" she questioned gently.

"Doris will take good care of you and we shouldn't be gone more than a couple of days," he assured.

Seeing that the Time Lord's assurance eased Glad's uncertainty, Sam gave a gentle smile, glad that the Gallifreyan agreed to his plans. "Okay. As soon as Al's back with some specifics, we'll leave."

"We don't need specifics from him. I already have them," the Doctor told him bluntly. "Just need to pull together some supplies."

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_Miami, Florida_

_Late March 2010_

When Jack and Rose landed in Miami, he was glad he'd decided to shift their vacation to the sunny Floridian city, certain that no one would go looking for Sam Beckett there. He'd set them up in a high-rise hotel with a great view of the ocean. Both had had an incredible week out and about in the Magic City. The nickname certain described it well. They had decided that tonight they going out for Salsa dancing, this time making sure that the aura was totally incognito. It had been wild and fun as they burned up the dance floor. Afterwards, they started walking back to the hotel which was only a few blocks away from the club.

As they walked, Rose took Jack's hand. "You're a good friend, Jack Harkness."

"Feeling's mutual. That was quite a workout you gave me on the dance floor."

"Learned how to salsa from a friend of mine back home. He spent an entire summer in Puerto Rico and picked up a few steps while he was there," she answered. She chuckled slightly. "He'd never believe that I actually danced the salsa in Miami. He'd think I was daft."

Jack smiled. "Yeah and certainly not the way you looked dancing it."

As both walked and talked, neither heard the approach of the two men that appeared seemingly from out of nowhere. One of them sneered, "Look Bob, more faggots. I swear, they're turning this city into their own private domain. Before you know it, they'll be more of them here than in San Francisco."

Bob twirled the baseball bat he carried in his hand. "Can't have that. Can we, Max? I say we teach them a lesson."

Jack started to reach for his gun, forgetting that he had left it back at the hotel. Instead, he decided to try diplomacy. "I don't think we need any lessons taught tonight. We're not even from here and we'll be leaving soon. Tomorrow, in fact."

"Tomorrow ain't good enough, faggot," Max told him bluntly, flicking open a switchblade that had obviously been well sharpened.

"Listen," Rose put in. "It's just one day. We just want to go back to our hotel room to pack and then we'll be gone."

"Not going to happen," Bob answered the person he saw as a man. He moved menacingly closer, pulling the bat back to strike his victim.

Jack turned away from Max and grabbed at the bat to prevent its forward motion. "Run, Rose!" he ordered, using his best command voice.

"Ain't that sweet? They even have pet names for each other!" Max commented, moving quickly towards Jack.

Rose didn't hesitated and did exactly the opposite of what Jack ordered, hurrying to help her friend fend off the attackers. A moment later, a sharp pain engulfed her shoulder as the bat struck her, sending her sprawling against a nearby wall. Her head bounced off the wall, causing a wave of nausea to fill her as she tried to focus her eyesight. When they did focus, she went into shock with what she witnessed.

Jack continued to struggle with Bob to keep the bat from finding Rose again. As he did, Max moved in and grabbed him by the shoulder, taking his knife and drawing it across the Torchwood leader's exposed neck. Jack tried to say something but without air to run across his vocal cord, now exposed and bloody, there was no sound. Instead, he dropped to his knees and then to the ground.

Bob's face split into a smile. "You got him, Max. Now let's get out of here before the cops arrive."

The two men melted into the night. Blood spurted from the wound at Jack's neck as death took him. Then it stopped, no blood pressure to force it further. His eyes stayed open, the pupils fixed.

Rose just shook physically as the two murderers ran quickly away, her eyes staring at Jack's prone form. Swallowing, she crawled to his side. She didn't have to even touch him to know the truth. Her dearest friend had died saving her life.

"Jack..." she whispered with a sob. Her hand shook as she reached for his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Dialing '999' gained her nothing until she somehow remembered that, in the United States, the emergency number was '911.' She was about to press send when the small device started to ring, causing her to drop the phone. Shaking worse than a leaf on a tree in a high wind, she again reached for the phone. Grabbing it quickly, she pressed the call button and put the phone to her ear. "Al? Please... please help," she cried out into the phone, hoping that the person on the other line was indeed the Admiral.

Hearing a male's voice not Jack's on the other end of the phone, Ianto Jones requested, "May I speak with Jack, please?"

The request only pushed the girl over the edge as she started to sob openly. "Please help," she begged the voice on the other line. "We were attacked and... they had a knife and... Oh, gawd! He's dead! Jack's dead!"

Ianto paused at hearing his dear friend had been killed again. While it wasn't the first time his boss and part-time lover had been killed, he still worried whether or not Jack would recover as he did many times before. Knowing that the man on the other end of the line was in near hysterics, he spoke calmly, hoping that his tone would somehow provide ballast. "All right. Just stay calm. Tell me exactly what happened."

Rose didn't know who it was she was speaking with but considering that he knew Jack - at least, she assumed he knew Jack - she obeyed the man's request. "They came out of nowhere. He... he was trying to protect me and... they cut his throat. There's blood everywhere!" She started to cry harder. "He was just trying to protect me and now he's gone."

The Welshman considered what he was told. Based on the information provided, coupled with Jack's previous recovery time, he guessed that his lover would return from the dead within the next few minutes... or not. He still wasn't completely sure what incident would be Jack's last. Still, he knew he needed far more information - such as where Jack and his current companion were and who that current companion was - just in case. It wasn't a task he enjoyed. "Are you the bloke that was dancing with Jack?" He continued. "The one in the photograph?"

Rose gaped in shock at his words. "How can you be so callous? I tell you my friend is dead and you... How cruel can you be? Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Ianto. I work with Jack. You must be Sam Beckett. Nice picture by the way. I was a little shocked by it, though. Jack hasn't been out dancing with another man for awhile."

In the background, Rose could hear the sound of keys being hit on a keyboard. "You're sick," she exclaimed, her throat tight at the reply he gave her. "Jack just died! Right in front of me! What did you say your name was? Ianto? Your boyfriend, who thinks the world of you, just died and you're going on about a photograph?"

"Really? He called me his boyfriend? Nice of him." There was a pause. "I know this sounds a bit off but... could you check his pulse?"

She gasped at his words before anger filled her eyes. "Check this, you bastard!" she told him before promptly hanging up. She turned away from Jack's body, unable to bear the sight of him as she cried heavily into her arms. How she desperately wanted the Doctor there right at that moment. If he'd been there in the first place, one of her best friends wouldn't have died right in front of her. The phone rang once more. Looking at the device, she growled in fury before tossing it behind her, not caring if Ianto Jones' call was ever answered. The ringing went on a few more seconds and then stopped when a male voice answered it.

"Harkness."

Rose screamed at the sound of the voice behind her as she scrambled away, turning to see the impossible: Jack Harkness standing where he had once been lying, his shirt covered with his own blood. "But..." she started.

Jack put his hand up. "Yes, Ianto. I know. I'll have to call you back, though. You know personally how the first time is always a shock for the other person. Okay. Yeah. Ten minutes, tops. Bye." He clicked the phone off before walking over to Rose, doing his best to help her through this shock. "Don't worry. I'm not a ghost."

Crawling up the wall she was pressed against, she shuddered physically. "Okay... not hallucinating, then. At least, don't think I am anyway," she said to herself. "What are you?" she demanded of the person in front of her. "Because Jack Harkness was human and humans just don't stand up after they're dead... unless..." She started to move along the wall, trying to get further away from him. "Unless you're Gelth. You're Gelth, aren't you," she stated bluntly.

"Please. Does this face look Gelth? I do still have a pulse, you know." He noticed she still looked terrified. "No. I'm not Gelth. Not even close. Definitely not made strictly out of gas." He sighed. "Okay, here's the deal. It started on Game Station. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here at all. I'd be dead."

"But... you were dead. Just now," she said. "But... that's impossible." She frowned at his words. "Game Station... I don't understand. How do you know about Game Station? Who are you?"

"I'm the same Jack Harness that was with you and the Doctor in the battle against the Daleks. We did our best against overwhelming odds and I definitely took on the role of the dying hero. Looked good doing it too. However, in the end, we lost. I remember dying and thinking, 'Well, if one has to go, at least go out in style.'" He hedged a bit. "Somehow, I got brought back to life and since then, I can't die." He stopped and reconsidered. "Well, that's not quite true. I die but I don't stay dead. Hurts like a son-of-a bitch too."

"But how..." she started, stopping before the sentence could be finished. "Just you? No one else on Game Station came back?"

Jack shook his head. "Just me and when I did 'revive' it was just in time to see the TARDIS leaving me."

Realizing what Jack must have gone through, Rose's heart broke. Rushing into his arms, she sobbed into his chest, not concerned about the drying blood, and shaking violently. "I'm sorry. All alone..."

Jack hugged her. "Yeah. I can't say I was really thrilled. Ending up getting to Earth. Missed the mark by about a century. Course, that's lead to some interesting situations."

"A hundred forty years," she whispered. "You said a hundred forty years. You lived them. You weren't traveling through time. You actually lived them. Here. On Earth. Alone."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "And it looks like I'll have a lot more." He pulled back from her and held her shoulders looking her in the eyes. "But for now, I'm fine. Alive and well. Shirt's a loss though. Too bad. I really liked it."

Pulling away from him, she wiped at the tears on her cheeks, smearing the blood she'd picked up from his stained wear. "It's a nice shirt. Well... it was a nice shirt." She didn't look at him, still uncomfortable with what he had told her. "I think I need a drink."

"Okay." He pulled up her chin. "I'm still the same Jack, Rose. Only difference is it appears I can't die."

She nodded. "It's not that. It's... I saw you die, Jack. You bled to death right in front of me. I'm just a little... freaked out about it right now."

"I know," he said. "Happens to everyone. Anyway, let's get back to the hotel and get that drink." As he spoke, the phone rang again. Jack looked at it and answered. "Okay, Ianto. I know I said ten minutes but this was important. You didn't exactly help the situation, you know."

"No, he didn't!" Rose exclaimed, anger returning to her voice when she realized whom Jack was talking to. "Prick!" she shouted into the phone.

In the city of Cardiff, Ianto Jones pulled away from the phone for a moment, his ear ringing from the hard male shout. "You can tell Dr. Beckett sorry from me."

Jack turned towards Rose. "Ianto says sorry." The only response he got from the teenager was a deep-seated glare. "Yeah... well... Dr. Beckett is... understandably reserved about giving his forgiveness," he told his Torchwood friend. "What did you need, Ianto?"

"You wanted to know when Harold Saxon announced the success of the satellite grid and the date that Pi would be turned on worldwide."

"Yeah. Has that happened?"

"According to the news conference Saxon just had in Melbourne, the Pi Network is going to be activated two days from now at twelve o'clock Greenwich Mean Time."

"April Fool's Day?"

"Sounds a bit like a marketing ploy, if you ask me. There's going to be a lot of people who are going to think it's nothing but a joke anyways," Ianto commented. "Who'd have thought? Instant worldwide communication in the early 21st century."

"Yeah. Who'd think," Jack said. With a sigh, he signed off. "I'll get back with you tomorrow. As of now, you're shut down. I don't want anyone monitoring outside the Hub until I give the go ahead. Got it?" There was a long pause and Jack could almost see in his mind's eye Ianto looking at his fellow Torchwood agents, confusion on his face.

"Jack," came another Welsh accent, this one feminine. "Did we just hear you right? You want us to go into communication lock-down?"

"Yes, Gwen. Your ears are fine. I know you think I'm nutters here, but trust me. I have my reasons. And while you're at it, tell Rhys to do the same. No phones, radio, computer, television... nothing. That includes calling me."

"Oh, he won't be happy about that. There's a match on tomorrow night," Gwen grumbled.

"Tell him to Tivo it. Might come in handy later."

"Is this because you're going to miss the match as well? Don't want anyone giving away who won?" she taunted.

"Well... there is that..." Jack trailed off. "But I'm serious. No outside communications until I say so."

"Will do," Gwen agreed. "And you'd better explain this when you get back."

"I promise," he told her. "See you later." He snapped the cell phone shut. "Now, Rose Tyler... how about that drink. And room service. Sound like a plan?"

"Sure," Rose answered, frowning at the conversation she'd overheard. Why Jack would tell someone not to use any form of communication was beyond her but it wasn't the foremost thing on her mind. She still couldn't get her head around the concept that Jack just couldn't die. She felt completely numb, like when the Doctor had regenerated in front of her. So much had happened in so little time, it was still hard for her to completely take it all in.

Jack shook his head as he noticed the look on her face, recalling the reason for it. "Al's going to be fit to be tied. I told him I'd make sure nothing happened."

Hearing him berate himself, she gave him a hug with her uninjured arm. "Don't blame yourself. If it weren't for you, they probably would have done a lot worse."

Neither said anything further as they continued on their journey to their hotel.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Project Quantum Leap_

_Stallion's Gate, New Mexico_

Walking down the ramp into the Control Room, Al briefly wondered how Sam was going to convince the Doctor that he actually had a mission to do. After all, based on the little time that he had spent with the alien, Al knew the Time Lord was probably the most stubborn man... alien... whatever... he had ever run across. Well, that was subjective considering he was in the running with Sam Beckett himself. That being the case, though, it didn't change the need to get Rose Tyler back to Project Quantum Leap. Once Sam finished his mission to save Sir Alistair, there was no doubt that he would leap out and the Doctor and his troublesome time and space machine would be out of the picture.

"Ziggy, get Captain Harkness on the horn. I'll take it in my office," he instructed, tossing the handlink to Gooshie as he headed for the exit. A minute later, he slipped into his desk chair and the phone rang, telling him that he had been connected.

Jack and Rose had returned to the hotel. Coming in through a side door, they quickly made their way to the elevator. Once in their room, Jack said he was going to get a shower and Rose should call room service. Before he could move to the bath, the phone rang. Jack answered it. "Harkness."

Al grinned triumphantly as he spoke. "Jack... time to bring Miss Tyler back. Long passed time, if you ask me."

"What? Why?"

"Sam's back on Earth finally. Took enough time. We even found out what he's there to do."

"Where are they?" he asked.

"Peru. About eight months ago. Have to save someone named Lethbridge-Stewart."

"So they're not..." Jack started but quickly stopped himself, switching gears. "Must have popped by to visit his friend, the Brigadier."

"You've heard of this guy?"

"Of course. Everyone knows about the Brigadier. Well, everyone on the other side of the pond and quite a few on this side as well."

"UNIT guys, of course," Al commented. "I'll have Ziggy arrange your flights back for tomorrow morning."

"No need to. I've already made flight arrangements."

"What? You were coming back anyway?"

"We..." He paused, looking over at Rose, who sat on her bed, obviously still shaken by what had happened in the street. "We decided that it was time to go back. There is such thing as too much fun, after all."

"What? Too much fun for you, Jack? I think I'll have to circle today on a calendar with a big red pen. Never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I would prefer that you didn't," Jack put in abruptly, unable to hide his feelings from his voice this time.

"Right," Al said somewhat confused by the somewhat somber tone of the man. "Oh. Did you hear? They're going to be turning on the Pi network. We may actually have cell phone reception here after that. Should make you pretty happy, huh, Jack?"

"Ecstatic," came the deadpan response. "Listen, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Do me a favor. Make sure that no one has anything to do with outside communication lines until I'm back. No telephones, television, radio, internet, anything like that. And that includes Ziggy doing any research outside of her current databanks. The only communication allowed is to contact me on this phone and this phone alone. Got it? Good. Thanks." He hit the end button.

Al frowned slightly as Jack hung up the phone without giving any kind of explanation for his orders. It didn't make any sense. With the Pi Network going to be active in only a couple of days, why would Jack want to limit their external connections? If anything, one would think that he'd want the project to explore the new technology as much as possible. After all, it did come from the brilliant mind of Harold Saxon himself. Still, Jack was the boss. Maybe he just wasn't an early adopter of technology... although the man had always struck Al as more than willing to try anything new and that was often an understatement. He figured they could discuss it after the two got back to the project the following day. Until then, he needed to help Sam out anyway he could which was going to be difficult under current orders. He sighed. "Ziggy," he ordered as he hung up the phone, "go into communications black-out. Jack's orders."

"Admiral, if I go into communications black-out, I will be unable to continue my external research on this leap," the parallel-hybrid computer pointed out. "I will be limited in my abilities to provide Dr. Beckett with accurate information."

"Yeah. Sam's going to be pissed, that's for sure. But he's had to wait a bit of time before. Jack'll be back tomorrow. We'll settle this then."

"Very well, Admiral. Initiating communications black-out."

Al shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. He just hoped this blackout wasn't going to tie the kid's hands too badly. If it meant the difference between a successful leap and one that failed, he didn't want to deal with the leaper's reaction to the consequences.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Miami, Florida_

The moment Jack ended the phone call with Al, he turned his focus completely on Rose, who was still sitting with a slightly lost expression. "You okay?"

"Yeah," came the hesitant reply. She turned to Jack and gave him a small smile. "I'm always okay."

"You're a lousy liar, Rose," he told her. Picking up the phone in the room, he dialed room service himself, ordering a large dinner and a bottle of wine. He turned to her. "You do like Merlot, right?"

"Yeah, sure," she replied half-heartedly. After a long pause, she suddenly gained a voice. "It's just... I've never been attacked like that before. I've been all over the universe, fought all sort of aliens, been kidnapped, imprisoned, had to defend myself... but this..."

"It happens. People get it in their heads they can't live with letting others be and..." He nodded to the trashcan where his former favorite shirt was now residing. "Fortunately, most people don't go that route."

"Well, hearing about it and knowing about it aren't the same as being on the receiving end of it," she told him. She gestured towards the bathroom. "You'd better wash up. You still have blood on you and I don't think we want police to come visiting us."

"No. That wouldn't be a good idea. They might try to keep us from leaving town and we do need to get back to New Mexico."

"Can't say I'm too upset about that prospect." Seeing the questioning look on Jack's face, she clarified. "Sam's leaping. I love being with you, Jack. But... you're not the Doctor... and this isn't the TARDIS. I miss it. The sooner I get out of this aura, the better, in my opinion."

"Yeah. Just don't get your hopes up too soon, Rose Tyler," Jack told her cryptically. He didn't wait for her to reply to his comment, going into the bathroom for his shower.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Lima, Peru_

_June 2009_

It took the Doctor a few minutes to inform Doris of Sam's plans, putting himself as a willing participant - he told himself that it was only to ease his friend's mind. The look of appreciation and love on Doris' face filled the Time Lord with guilt, knowing that he didn't intent to help Sam in any way. After once again assuring Glad that she would be well cared for in Doris' hands – and giving her a key to the TARDIS to allow her access to it - he followed Sam out of the house, borrowing the Brigadier's Jeep. He let the physicist drive as he watched the landscape pass.

It was a few hours before the cityscapes slowly turned into country and then into mountains. Neither of them has spoken to each other during the trip, though it was obvious that the Doctor still disapproved of Sam's given mission.

Finally, once they were truly close to the mountains, Sam stopped the Jeep. He turned to the Doctor. "Okay. I know you're not really keen on this whole thing. Right now, though, as much as you think this is wrong, I need the right directions to get to Alistair's location. If I can't trust you to give them to me, I'll have to wait for Al." He paused. "I really don't get you, though. This is your friend we're talking about."

"It has nothing to do with Alistair," the Time Lord murmured. He sighed and then quietly gave Sam the directions that he needed to get to the Brigadier. After a long pause, he looked at Sam. "I do want to save him."

Sam heard the compassion in the Doctor's voice. He realized that in many ways, the Doctor was where he was the first time he'd visited Beth's life. He truly felt he couldn't help Al regain the love of his life. It wasn't until after Sam had met the bartender that he realized that it was something he had to do. It was part of the reason he knew now that the Doctor was wrong about fighting him. "I know. And I will save him. I'll save him and space-time will _not_ be destroyed."

"Oh, I wish I could believe you. I really do. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to fix what you are about to destroy." The Gallifreyan's voice took on a haunted tone.

"You won't have to fix anything."

"Yes. I will," he replied softly. He looked over at Sam, his eyes seeming to grow old instantly.

Sam started up the Jeep and headed in the direction he knew held his destiny. He'd save Brigadier General Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart and show the Doctor there was more in heaven and earth than were dreamt of in his Time Lord philosophies.

Another long journey up the mountains filled their time before the Doctor put a hand on Sam's arm. "Stop here," he instructed. "We have to go the rest of the way on foot."

"How far is it?"

"About nine or ten hours away," he answered, stepping out of the Jeep just as it stopped. "It's getting to be nightfall so we'll have to set camp for the night. Too dangerous going up when it's this dark." Seeing the concern on Sam's face, he assured him, "I'm not deliberately delaying you. Alistair will be fine until we reach him. Well... I say fine... Still... ex-military. He can take care of himself for the most part, even at his age."

"Yeah. I know the type."

The Doctor gave him a smile. "I had a feeling about him," he commented, opening the back of the Jeep to pull out the needed equipment.

Sam looked at the Doctor strangely. "Huh?"

"Your friend Albert," came the clarifying response. The Time Lord handed Sam a couple of large rucksacks. "Ex-military, am I right? One of the higher ranking officers?"

Sam nodded and smiled. "Yeah. Rear Admiral, retired." He added, "You know, he was an astronaut during the Apollo program."

The Doctor stopped in his motions. "No..." he stated, his voice sounding stunned. "Waitaminute… waitaminutewaitaminute! Wait…a…minute! Calavicci! Of course! Captain Albert Calavicci! Why didn't I see it before? I'm old and thick!"

Sam again stopped to look at the Doctor. "What?"

"Captain Albert Calavicci!" the alien reiterated. "Apollo! Aw! He's brilliant!" His face dropped. "Just don't tell him I said that. Not sure that he'd ever let me live it down."

"You're... um... saying Al's brilliant? The guy you called an obnoxious little man? What changed your mind?" Sam asked. It wasn't that he didn't agree with the Doctor, just wanted to find out why the sudden reversal.

"Well... it's all a matter of context, isn't it? I mean, before, he was just an annoying little man... Well, he still is annoying but that's beside the point. But I had no idea that he and he were the same person. I mean, who would have thought that, given how he's continually closing his mind to the possibilities of the universe and yet believing in non-existent paranormal phenomenon. I mean, I really didn't get to talk to him much the first time I met him and even then it was only for a few minutes while he was preparing for launch. Amazing little creatures, you humans. Putting yourselves into tiny little rockets and launching yourselves into space with nothing to protect you from vacuum except a primitive metal shell. And here was Albert Calavicci, astronaut extraordinaire! Mind you, if it weren't for him and me putting our brilliant minds together, that mission would have ended disastrously."

Sam considered the flood of words that flowed over him non-stop. When the Doctor ended, he asked, "So which incarnation were you?"

The Doctor blinked at him for a moment. "Umm... fifth?" He tugged at his ear as he concentrated on finding the answer. "No! Fourth! Teeth and curls! And a really long scarf. Love that scarf! Still have the first one I wore in the TARDIS." He winced slightly. "Unraveled the second one trying to find my way to the zero room after I regenerated."

"So, you've met Al before, huh? Strange that you didn't recognize him."

The Time Lord sniffed slightly. "Well... he is a bit older now and it was a long time ago for both of us. He wasn't quite so... parochial back then."

"You think Al's parochial?"

"He came back from being scared of ghosts dressed as if he were the grocery list for a Dragon without considering the fact that he's a hologram."

Sam rolled his eyes before defending his buddy. "He knew he was a hologram. He was just making sure that the Dragon couldn't get him even if he was. I know that sounds pretty dumb but think about it. There were a lot a hokey things going on at that point. Why not an alien something that could pull a human back through space-time to eat it? Al was just being... in his way... practical."

"There's practical and parochial. And when you are using superstition to make irrational decisions, that's very parochial."

"Okay, fine." the physicist stated to end that particular discussion, instead going back to the previous one. "So... when you met him before, what exactly did the two of you figure out?"

"Oh, I think that's for you to ask Albert, not me." He grinned widely at him.

"I hope I remember to do that."

"You going to set up camp? Lovely night out. Evening sleeping under the stars?"

He paused. "Yeah. Probably should fix something for dinner."

"_Molto bene!"_ The Gallifreyan practically skipped over to their chosen site, gathering an armload of dried wood and strategically placing it on the ground before pulling out his sonic screwdriver and lighting the makeshift fire. Setting a couple of sleeping bags around the campfire, he then sat cross-legged on one as he watched Sam open a can. "What is that?" he questioned with a frown.

"You brought it," Sam pointed out. "It's some kind of beef stew." He lifted the lid and looked inside. "Not the way Mom used to make it." He dumped it into the pot he'd pulled out of the backpack.

"I just took what Alistair keeps in his Jeep for his little excursions into nature." The alien leaned forward to look into the pot. "Doesn't look too bad."

"You never had Mom's cooking." Sam set up a holder to keep the pot over the fire. As he gave it a stir, he turned back to the Time Lord. "I'm not surprised you'd be impressed by Al. He's one of a kind, you know."

"I didn't say it was the best beef stew in this area of the Mutter's Spiral," the Doctor clarified at Sam's words. "But at least it looks like it won't taste like someone's left shoe." Giving Sam a smile, he supported his weight on his elbows. "And, yes, Albert Calavicci is definitely one of a kind. He has a unique way of looking at science, you know."

"Yeah. He was one of the few who believed in my dream. Most people thought I was nuts." Sam looked into the fire, his mind back at the beginning of Al's and his partnership. "Without Al, I wouldn't be here right now."

"Well, of course they did. Aren't all geniuses a little crazy? But see, that's exactly why Albert is brilliant! He sees what other people don't. He may not understand it in minute scientific detail... But you show him a transdimensional equanomagnetic linear logistic manipulator and he can tell you exactly what it's for without the scientific goobledigookish explanation."

Sam nodded vigorously. "Yeah. That's Al."

"Like I said... brilliant! Really, how many human beings can do that? And I have never met a man more loyal to his own species. Mind you, his attraction to females reminds me a little too much of Jack... or is that the other way around?" He shook his head. "Anyway, if it weren't for him... well, and me, of course... his entire crew would have died on that Apollo mission."

"I've never heard that. Al's been generally quiet about that mission. I figured it was secret or something." He smiled. "I remember hearing him read Genesis though, from up there," Sam said, nodding to the night sky.

"That was my idea." Seeing the look on Sam's face, he admitted, "Not really. But it was beautiful, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. It was," the leaper agreed. "I really didn't realize Al was the same guy when I first met him at Star Bright, but I remember watching that on TV as a kid."

"Is that heated?" the Time Lord changed the subject abruptly, nodding to the pot over the fire.

Sam checked the food and found it bubbling. "Hand me a plate and I'll dish some up for you.

The Doctor complied, waited patiently for the makeshift cook to dish out the stew, and accepted it back from him. Digging a fork into the meal, he took a bite. "Not bad. Not a gourmet meal on Gantra Sixteen. But not bad."

"Well, I don't know anything about Gantra Sixteen, but I'll agree with you." Sam dished out his own plate and started eating as well.

The two men ate in silence, after which the Doctor cleaned up the remnants of their dinner and put the plates and utensils away in the Jeep. Returning to the campfire, he slumped back down and, lying uncovered, stared up at the sky. "Yeti," he said suddenly.

"Huh?" Sam asked again at the sudden word.

"When Alistair and I first met, we were fighting Yeti."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Sam said dryly. A memory came to him. "Al and I once saw Bigfoot."

"Didn't happen to be a robot being controlled by the Great Intelligence in an attempt to take over the Earth, did it?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. He helped get a vehicle that had gone off the road back on course. Seemed like a nice enough creature. Just wanted to be left alone."

"Just making sure. Didn't want to think that Sasquatch's good name was being tarnished."

"I take it you and Alistair won?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor agreed with a grin. "Well, sort of. The Great Intelligence escaped but there aren't any more Yeti running around London. So, what about you and Albert? There's got to be a story there."

Sam smiled. "You could say that. When I first met Al, he was going to take out a vending machine with a hammer."

"A hammer? I can think of better ways to disable a vending machine. Why use a hammer?"

"It took his dime. He wanted vengeance."

"If he gets that upset over a dime, I'm glad I never took that bag of jellies he'd left on the table."

Sam shook his head. "It was a different time for Al. He was going through some problems. I'm sure when you met him, he would have given you the jellies. He's always been generous."

"He seemed that sort at the time, which is why hearing about him attacking a vending machine with a hammer comes as a surprise to me. What kind of problems?"

"Al had been a prisoner of war. Flashbacks had been haunting him and he'd been drinking heavily to deal with them. I helped him find a healthier way. Best decision I ever made was to help him find his way again."

The Time Lord's eyes instantly showed his age at Sam's words. In that moment, he completely sympathized with Albert Calavicci. "He's lucky to have you, Sam Beckett. So lucky."

"It's mutual," Sam answered honestly.

"You have no idea what you mean to him," the Doctor continued. "You really don't."

The leaper grinned at the Gallifreyan. "He's my Sancho. My best friend." The grin turned rueful. "Just once, I wish I could just take his hand again and pull him into a bear hug. I think I miss that more than anything."

The Time Lord returned a weak, but honest, smile back to Sam. "You will. Hug him." He took a slow breath. "I understand Albert, now," he stated bluntly. "Oh, I so understand him. So much more than you ever will. And I hope you never understand him as I do, Sam. There are some things that no one should ever know. And Albert and I do."

Sam's head tilted and a confused look crossed his face. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Have you ever been in a war? Have you ever been a prisoner of war?"

The human stammered. "I'm not sure. I've been in situations that I've been a prisoner and I've experienced war first hand, but I simply don't remember if I've been a prisoner of war."

"Then I hope, if you ever were, that you never remember." There was a pause. "I still have nightmares from it." He huffed slightly. "But then again, you probably already guessed that based on my current sleeping habits. Or rather lack thereof."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. The one memory I do have of being in a war still occasionally haunts me. I so wanted to have my brother survive and as a result a young woman died who wouldn't have. And, because of me, Al spent another two years in total hell." He huffed out a breath. "Al said that he made the choice when he told me to go after Tom, and Maggie won the Pulitzer posthumously, which is what she wanted. Still..."

"No Reapers popping in from out of nowhere?" The Time Lord shook his head slightly to negate his own question. "Obviously not, or you wouldn't be right here right now."

"I've never seen these Reapers you're speaking of are and I've never seen anything that would tell me that what I'm doing is wrong. In fact, there have only been incidents that show I'm doing what I'm supposed to, even if certain factions don't want me to."

"What factions? You know, the more you talk about your 'missions', the more I'm thinking that you are being manipulated."

"Well, there was one time that... um... well, it sure seemed like the Devil impersonated Al. He wasn't too happy with my fixing things. Then there was Lothos."

"Had my encounter with the Devil as well. Well... maybe it was the Devil. Certainly was something I never had encountered before." The Doctor frowned. "But what or who is Lothos?"

"He's... something, someone... that is working in time similar to me."

"Another time traveler changing history 'for the better' left, right, and in between without thinking about the consequences. Terrific,"came the sarcastic response.

"That's not it at all," Sam said, sounding somewhat defensive.

"Competition trouble?" the Doctor queried, the sarcasm still strong.

Sam's eyes narrowed as his anger and disgust at Lothos came to the fore. "No. Lothos' project is a... a... flip side of Quantum Leap. He tries to tear things apart. Make them worse. Hurts the people he leaps." Sam thought back to Alia and hoped that she was okay wherever she was.

"Ooo, can't have that!" the Gallifreyan protested. "I may not like you hopping about from time period to time period, changing things around. But at least you're not hurting anyone. Well, for the most part. At least, I'm assuming, based on what I know about you, that you aren't deliberately hurting anyone."

"Of course, I wouldn't deliberately hurt anyone. That wouldn't be right." He paused. "Although I've had to kill before. I never thought that would happen in my life."

The Doctor laid flat on the sleeping bag at Sam's words, his eyes sad. "I'm sorry," he told him softly. It was almost as if he was taking the blame for Sam's actions, regardless of the circumstances that had caused Sam to take a life.

Sam nodded. "First time that I actually meant to kill another being, the woman was about to kill my brother. If I hadn't shot her, he would've died. Again. I couldn't let that happen."

"Can't remember the first time I deliberately killed someone," came the quiet answer. "I know I had no other choice. But, eventually, it infects you. It becomes so easy to kill." His voice grew hard as he spoke, though it was obvious that the harshness was directed at himself. "At least, until you've actually done it. Then it's the hardest thing in the universe."

There was a long lull in the conversation as both men sat, considering what they had told each other.

"Well... we're a cheery lot, aren't we?" the Doctor suddenly commented, his eyes still gazing up at the sky. "Suppose we had better sleep. Need to be well rested for our rescuing Alistair tomorrow."

"I was thinking the same thing," Sam said. He did a double take at the words the Doctor spoke. "O_ur_ rescuing Alistair? I thought you didn't approve."

"I don't," the Time Lord hedged. "Well... not entirely. Still... I have a feeling that somehow someone or something is manipulating your leaping, preventing the Reapers from crossing into our reality. And the possibility of saving my friend... He's more than a friend, actually. Alistair has saved me so many times, in so many ways. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." He didn't tell Sam the dark thoughts that ran through his mind - thoughts of doing whatever was necessary should the Reapers make an appearance.

Sam smiled. "Well, nice to have your support. Now let's get some sleep."

The Doctor made a slight nod at Sam's words, lying silently as he looked up at the starlit ceiling above them. He just hoped that tomorrow wouldn't have him freeing his dear friend - only to kill him for the sake of the rest of planet Earth.

The two men went to sleep and slept peacefully through the night. It was just past dawn when Sam, wrapped up in a dream was awoken.

"Sam," a gravelly voice pushed through the dreams of the physicist. "Sam, wake up. Come on, buddy."

"Let him be," another voice put in with slight annoyance. "We've got time."

Sam opened one eye and saw the brightly colored clothing pallet that was his best friend. He had to admit that waking up to a rainbow was somewhat disconcerting, but then again, this was Al. "I'm awake," he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Aww, Albert! Why'd you have to wake him up? He needs as much rest as he can get."

The Admiral turned his head towards the Time Lord, who was stirring something over an open fire. "If you don't mind, I'm trying to talk to my friend here." He returned his gaze towards Sam. "So, how's it going with...?" He gestured over his shoulder towards the Doctor.

Sam stretched to work the kinks out of his neck. "Good." He gave a yawn and then asked, "How far are we to Alistair's location and have you found out any more about the kidnapping?"

"You're close enough to make it in a day, about ten or eleven hours on foot, depending on the terrain and the direction you go. As for the rest, there really isn't much to go on concerning the actual kidnapping. From what little we were able to get, Sir Alistair was apparently out shopping when a group of four armed men physically pulled him off of the street and threw him into a non-descript van. After that, he wasn't seen until early tomorrow morning. The person who found his body didn't stick around to give his name or anything but he was described as being about 5'10" tall with curly brown hair and wearing a Halloween costume."

"Sounds sorta like you, Al," Sam quipped.

"Oh, haha," Al answered with a glare.

"Actually..." the Doctor spoke up, walking over to hand Sam a bowl of hot oatmeal. "It was a New Year's Eve costume."

Sam took the bowl. "What?" he asked, wondering about the description. He also acknowledged receiving the food. "Thanks."

"The outfit Albert's describing. It was a New Year's Eve costume. Not a Halloween costume. Though, it probably could have been used for Halloween as well."

"How would you know that?"

"Umm... because..." The Time Lord focused on the bowl in his own hand, stirring the oatmeal for a long moment. "I was wearing it."

"You... were...' Sam started in surprise before the compassion in his eyes took over. "Oh, Doctor. That must have been horrible, finding your friend murdered."

Al rolled his eyes. "He's reeling you in, Sam. He doesn't even come close to fitting that description."

"I fit the description then," the Time Lord stated.

Sam looked at Al. "It doesn't matter, Al. It's possible."

"I'm telling you, it isn't!" Al insisted vehemently.

Sam took a deep breath and sigh of tiredness. "Al, this guy is on his tenth life. When he 'dies,' he doesn't exactly die. He regenerates. He's looked very different in the past."

"Really," Al said. "Well, he doesn't look or act a day over eleven."

"I'm nine hundred years old!" the Doctor protested. "As if you're to talk, with all those sports cars you've got hiding in your garage."

"I'm a collector," Al stated with dignity. He looked at Sam. "How did he know that? You been telling him about me?"

"Actually... I've been telling him about us," the Gallifreyan corrected and then smiled widely. "Isn't that brilliant?"

"What?" Al asked. "I've never met you before this leap. At this point, I'm still not sure that was a good idea."

"Oh, yes, we have. Albert Calavicci, astronaut extraordinaire. Husband to Elizabeth, father of four daughters. You are so very proud of them, especially your youngest, whom you and Beth nearly lost."

Al's eyes narrowed as he looked at Sam. "You have been talking about me."

The Doctor spoke up, not giving Sam a chance to reply to the accusation. "He hasn't been telling me about your family, Albert. I already knew that from when we met before. Met Beth, actually. Marvelous woman. You're very lucky."

"Yes... I know that. But how could you possibly know about my children unless Sam's been filling you in?"

"Met them too," he replied. "We had a lovely dinner, us seven. You, me, Beth, your three eldest and little Julianna. Tell me, how is her heart condition?"

Al blinked. "That's even more specific."

"Is she still taking those meds I told you to give her? Mind you, she's probably an adult now so her prescription has no doubt changed to suit her age. But still, would hate for her to have a heart attack."

"The meds you told me to give her? An old friend..." He looked at Sam. "A doctor, like _you_..." He turned back to the Gallifreyan, "...found her heart condition and prescribed meds. He certainly wasn't _you_. For one thing, he was taller and he had a mouth of big teeth."

"An antiarrhythmic, to be precise. For her irregular heartbeat," the Time Lord replied. "Teeth and curls, that was me. Gave her a jelly baby for being such a good little girl."

"You're telling me you're Dr. John Smith?" Al's eyes widened.

The Doctor scratched his head. "Now that I think of it, I actually was taller. A good two inches."

Al's face clouded with confusion. "But you're... he's... well, was... I mean..."

Sam smiled at Al's confusion. "It's all do to with that Time Lord thing. I may have been traveling for twelve years in others' auras. He just travels longer and changes. Still not a normal existence." Sam thought about it. "Well, not normal for a human. I guess for a Time Lord, from what I understand, sort of par for the course."

"Well, par for the course for me, anyway." The Doctor hesitated then shifted the focus back on what he was more interested in, namely talking about him and Al's first meeting. "That was about three hundred years ago for me."

Al turned to Sam. "I can't believe this putz is the same person. That guy was really amazing."

Sam shook his head. "Same guy, Al."

"Putz?!" the Time Lord huffed. "There's gratitude for you. Save someone's life, he calls you a putz." He put a large glob of oatmeal in his mouth.

Sam looked at the Doctor. "That's just Al. He didn't mean anything by it."

"Could have fooled me," the Gallifreyan commented, his mouth full.

"Getting back on the subject," Al put in. Seeing the frown on the Doctor's face, he clarified, "Sir Alistair."

The Doctor's face dropped noticeably at his words, suddenly somber again.

Al continued to lay out what information they'd been able to determine as the Doctor and Sam finished their breakfast. By the time the oatmeal was finished and the dishes were washed and put away, the two men pulled on their packs starting up the trail.

Al hit the handlink to open the door and called after them. "Hey, since it's going to take you a while to get where you're going, I'm going to get some work done. Maybe get something to eat. I'll check back with you in a few hours." With that, he exited the Imaging Chamber, knowing that Ziggy would let him know if he needed to hurry back to them for any reason.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean_

_March 30, 2010_

The Master was pushing back into the leather chair on his Lear jet, Peri in a matching chair next to him as they headed back to Australia after finishing the last of their world-wide PR tour. "Brilliant, my dear. Simply brilliant. Of course, I'm not surprised that my wife would see the potential of the information Lothos obtained from hacking the ultra secret files at the Pentagon. A separate power grid. No wonder it's been taking so long to pinpoint them."

Peri Saxon smiled at her husband. "Naturally, I had to ensure that our plans remained on schedule by suggesting to Lothos that the power be cut from their complex at the same time as Pi comes online, giving you the time you need to write a program to take control of their computer. It wouldn't do to have any kind of resistance to our plans, especially from a time traveling meddler like Samuel J. Beckett."

"Absolutely. Don't want any Reapers finding their way into our new empire. When they show, well, as the saying goes, there goes the neighborhood... and the planet... and likely the universe."

"Amazing that they haven't already claimed this planet, what with Lothos and Beckett making such a mess of things."

"That has me confused as well. From the files I've seen, their level of meddling is simply not acceptable. There must be some form of shield. I'll have to uncover it. Could come in handy to change things with immunity."

"Perhaps the Time Lords just keep correcting the imbalances," she suggested. "You did say that they watched over the universe and kept time from collapsing on itself."

"I don't think so. There just isn't a Time Lord stamp on Beckett's and Lothos' activities."

"Perhaps Beckett and Lothos never actually did anything that caught the eyes of the Reapers."

"Maybe," the Master replied, though his voice indicated that he seriously doubted the possibility. Taking a breath, he leaned forward to pick up his glass of bourbon and sipped on it for a moment. "At any rate, it doesn't matter. Soon neither of them will be a problem."

Peri smiled. "You're close to harnessing the power of the black stone."

"I have the schematics for the prototype chamber drawn up. Completely in my own memory, of course. Can't have HAL get a hold of this technology. However, once we have Earth under our feet, I will build the chamber, use the Eye to make you a goddess, and then we'll use it to conquer the rest of the universe one star system at a time. By then, we should also have a TARDIS available, especially after we take Gallifrey."

"You haven't told me much about your home planet. What is it like?"

The Master regarded the drink in his hand for a moment. "The planet itself... Gallifrey is gorgeous. Fields of red grass everywhere, trees with silver leaves when in bloom, majestic mountains serving as backdrop to enormous cities under glass domes, a light orange sky illuminated by two suns... The sky turns dark burnt orange when the suns go down. Absolutely stunning. The Time Lords themselves, however... old, stagnant, dusty people too afraid to take the power they possess and use it as it should be. The whole Time Lord race should be rulers of the universe. Instead, they sit there like lumps, afraid to make the tiniest waves. Cowards all of them."

"Red grass and silver trees? Sounds beautiful."

"Oh, it is. And very soon, my love, you will see it in person, just as soon as I find the means to take you there. A TARDIS would be lovely. The Doctor has one I could annex. And I have no doubt that he'll show up on this piece of dirt sometime. I just don't want him to find me until I'm ready for him to do so."

"He's the one that's hurt you before."

He looked at her with haunted eyes. "You have no idea, darling."

"Then, I want him to be hurt. I want him to feel the pain you had to feel. Tell me you'll let me hurt him for you."

Reaching up, he cupped her face with gentleness reserved only for her. "As you wish, my Periwinkle." At that moment, the plane started to descend. "It appears we are nearly at our destination," the Time Lord commented, removing his hand and allowing the private attendant, who was passing by, to take his empty glass.

"You are so good to me, my love."

"Of course, I am," came the reply with a knowing grin. "Someone has to be. Rassilon knows your mother isn't going to be."

She sighed. "Yeah."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_Project Quantum Leap_

_March 31, 2010_

As Al left the Imaging Chamber, he overheard Gooshie speaking on the phone, saying, "He's not going to like this, Captain."

"Who is not going to like what?" Al questioned with a frown. "Is that Jack? Give it to me," he ordered without waiting for a reply.

Gooshie immediately handed the phone over.

"Jack, I'm assuming, based on what I just overheard, that you have something to say to me," Al put in abruptly, speaking to the person on the other end of the line.

"Not really. I was just providing the project with an update. The flight from Miami to Atlanta went fine but, during the layover, some bad weather's moved in. Nothing's taking off here. Tornado warnings and such. They don't know when things will be clear again."

"So, you're stuck in Atlanta," Al concluded with a frown. "Jack... Sam could leap any minute! I need Miss Tyler in the Waiting Room."

"Well, I don't think weather controlling will reach the point of dealing with tornadoes until the 33rd century. But if you want to give it a try, I'm game."

"That's not even in remotely funny, Jack," the Admiral growled slightly.

"Well, then, you're just going to have to wait it out like we are."

"This is ridiculous. You know, we wouldn't even _be _in this situation if you hadn't taken her and ran off to the Virgin Islands to make a fool out of not only yourself but Sam as well. We're _still _trying to put a lid on _that _boiling pot of water."

"Calm down, Calavicci. You're not as young as you used to be. Don't worry. We have time."

"Well, according to Ziggy, we have approximately ten hours and four minutes until Sam leaps and I would feel a lot better if we didn't have to delay the leap any further than it has already been delayed, thank you very much."

"From what I've read in the project files, Ziggy's not always right, you know."

"Yeah, well. Better safe than sorry."

"It's a moot point right now, Al. Nothing's taking off for a while. I'm going to take Rose to the bar and get us some peach daiquiris. Atlanta makes the best ones. I'll call you when we know the flight schedule."

"I suppose that I'll just have to live with it," the Admiral complained. Taking a breath, he added, "Be careful at least. If a tornado does touch the ground around there, make sure you're both safe."

"Yeah. Don't think it will be a problem. Give you a call later."

The apparently older man gave a hint of a smile. "You'd better or I'll go down there and kick your butt myself."

Jack laughed. "Watch it or I'll take you up on that."

"Maybe I should just keep my trap shut," Al muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Talk to you later."

"Yeah. Later." The phone clicked, ending the connection.

Al sighed as he handed the phone back to Gooshie. "If it's not one thing, it's another," he groused. Glancing back towards the Imaging Chamber and then at the Waiting Room, he took a deep breath. He wasn't good at waiting but it looked as if that was the only thing that he could do. Ziggy had gotten all the information she could and it was going to be several hours before Sam and the Doctor arrived at their destination.

"Keep me informed," he told the programmer unnecessarily as he left the Control Room, deciding that, if he was going to spend hours worrying about Sam's ability to leap out of Rose Tyler, he might as well get some work done in the meantime.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Lima, Peru_

_June 2009_

While the Doctor didn't feel the need for anything that was in the packs, he carried one nonetheless, knowing that his friend would definitely need what he had on his back at the moment. He was quiet for a long time as Sam and he hiked up the mountain. The wind picked up slightly, causing the Doctor's coattails to billow out behind him as he continued forward.

"We're getting close," he finally said, turning to look down the mountain towards Sam. "About another mile." He was unaffected by the continuous climb but it was getting obvious that his human friend was starting to feel the strain. "Take a rest," he told him, finding a boulder to sit on.

Although Sam was in excellent shape, he found himself somewhat winded as the altitude caused the air to thin. "Yeah. I think I'm going to have to."

Watching the physicist sit just across from him, the Gallifreyan gave him a look of concern. "You all right?"

"Not used to hiking at altitudes like this," he explained. "Didn't really have much time to acclimate."

"Yeah. Sorry about that," the Doctor told him, looking a bit embarrassed for forgetting the difference in human biology.

Sam shrugged. "I'll be okay. We are on a limited time schedule. Besides, from what Al tells me, when I'm not leaping, I seem to heal. Won't cause any permanent damage, I'm sure."

"It still can't be good for you. And we aren't quite that limited. Albert's directions weren't entirely accurate so I took us up a quicker route. I admit it's a bit more conspicuous..."

As he spoke, two men came up to their location from the left, both rather large. When one of them asked in Spanish what they were doing there, Sam answered quickly in that language that they were just hikers spending a vacation in the Andes.

"Then I would suggest that you go back down the mountain, _Señor_ and _Señorita_. It is quite treacherous terrain above. You could easily be hurt or lost," the taller one told them.

Sam smiled. "Oh, we're experienced. I don't think we'll have any problem."

"Now, Rose, I'm sure that we don't want to upset these gentlemen. They obviously have our safety in mind," the Doctor stated, taking Sam's arm, an odd look on his face.

Sam pulled his arm away. "I know you're not fully invested in this Doctor, but I'm going on." He turned to the other man. "Thanks for the warning, but I'll be alright."

"Sam..." the Time Lord warned between grit teeth.

"No. You just don't get it. Everything is going to be fine." He turned to the other two. "You'll excuse me? If you want to convince my timid friend to go down the mountain, more power to you. I'm going on." He started to turn to walk off when he heard the Imaging Chamber opening.

Seeing that Sam was about to try to pass the men, the Gallifreyan rushed to block his path. "Sam, I really think you ought to reconsider this particular course of action and take a different path." It was obvious that he was trying to convey something important with his eyes.

"Yeah, Sam. Listen to him," Al stated, concern in his voice.

"Great! Just great. It's reunion time and now you take his side when you know I'm right," Sam complained again.

"Samuel! Listen to me!" the Time Lord bellowed as the physicist moved past him. "They have..."

"Sam!" Al cried as the barrel of a .22 caliber revolver was pulled from under the Peruvian man's poncho.

"What?" Sam cried, at the sound of his given name spoken by both of his friends as he continued to walk on. He heard the order to halt in Spanish but at this point was too worked up to listen. "Like hel..." he started before he was sure he heard the sound of a truck backfiring, which was impossible considering where they were. About to say just that, he suddenly felt a searing pain in his right shoulder.

The Doctor and Al watched helplessly as their friend was shot, the momentum of the bullet entering his flesh causing the man to stumble and fall. The backpack he was wearing caused him to roll onto the injured shoulder, which brought on a yelp of pain. The Time Lord took a step towards him, intent on helping him when he found the same gun used on Sam aimed at his face.

"Albert," he whispered, his eyes indicating that he needed the hologram to check on the wounded scientist. The Admiral quickly went to do exactly that, not needing the alien's instructions to do so. Cautiously, the Doctor raised his hands so that they could easily be seen.

"If you are smart, _Señor_, you will not move. It is too bad that the _señorita_ has chosen to ignore us, but that is the way with such headstrong teenagers today, no?"

"Yeah," he replied, swallowing tightly. "There's... really no need to point that thing at me. I just... want to check on my friend." Slowly, he pointed towards Sam.

"Oh. We'll take care of her." The one man grinned somewhat manically. "Can't let them go down the mountain now, can we, Tomas."

Sam moaned, his hand going to his shoulder. As he pulled it away, he saw the bright red on his hand, and looked at it dumbly. "I'm bleeding."

Al, crouched down beside him, moved his eyes from Sam to the situation between the Doctor and the armed men. "You were shot. The Doctor tried to warn you but you wouldn't listen."

"Shot?" Sam said, his face continuing to pale as the reality of the situation came home /to him. He was already weakened from the climb and was finding it had to get a decent breath under the current stress and fear he felt from the situation.

"Please," the Time Lord put in as he looked from one set of eyes to another, desperate to get some sense of control of the situation. "I'm a doctor. Let me tend to her."

The men obviously ignored his pleas. "I guess what they say about these blond women is true. She _es estupido_," Tomas said. "Tonight, we finish the job and celebrate, eh, Paulo."

Paulo nodded. "Yeah. And tomorrow we collect our reward." He looked over at the man who was the blonde's companion. "But first, we get rid of any problems." He smiled. "You wanted to go down the mountain, senor. We can oblige you."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa!" the Gallifreyan exclaimed, slowly backing away from them. "Listen, I can be a great asset. I know medicine and... and... computers... and..."

Al, seeing the intent in the eyes of both men, abruptly stood. "Hey, get away from him, you slimeballs!"

"And... it is time for you to say farewell to you, friend," Tomas answered. "Perhaps you will be together tomorrow." He laughed as he continued to move towards the tall, skinny man who appeared to have no idea in which direction he was going.

"Can't you just let us go?" Sam asked weakly, seeing the Time Lord being pushed ever closer to the edge of the mountain. The backpack now felt extraordinarily heavy and sticky wet from his blood loss.

"Shut up, _zorra_." Paulo aimed at Sam. He turned back to his companion. "Oh, get it over with, Tomas. We need to get back to Stephano."

"Doctor! You've got to do something here!" Al warned, hurrying to be near the Gallifreyan.

"Hadn't thought of that. Thanks," the alien replied, unable to hide his trepidation from his voice. A quick glance behind him told that he was now standing just at the edge of a steep precipice. "Go be with Sam," he ordered quietly to the Admiral.

"_No problemo_," Tomas stated in answer to the Time Lord's sarcasm, a wicked grin on his face.

The Gallifreyan had met enough of these thugs in his time to know that this wasn't good and that the chances of his escape from the situation were slim. At the very least, he could make sure that Sam had as much help as possible, holographic or not. "Go be with Sam," he ordered again.

"But what about you?" the ex-Naval officer questioned with worry in his voice.

"Got a way to get me out of this predicament?" came the querulous response.

"Um... can't you use that funny light thingy you have or something?" Al asked hoping that suggestion would have some merit.

The Doctor started to give the hologram a glare but was stopped when he heard another voice overlapping the Italian's.

Tomas grinned at what looked like the thin man's last desperate attempt to save his life. "Sorry, _Señor_. No can do." He suddenly rushed the Gallifreyan causing the alien to go over the side of the ledge, pack and all.

"No!" screamed Al as he watched the Doctor drop off the edge.

Tomas laughed as he looked over the side, seeing the form sprawled about thirty feet below. "The _señor_ is no more!" he said in a sing-song voice.

Sam looked on the scene, the horror of it surreal as if watching it through a nightmarish dream. He was feeling extremely dizzy and found he didn't have the power to react, much as he wanted to.

Al blinked in shock for a second before having Gooshie center him on the Time Lord to discover if the assessment was true or not. He couldn't help but feel a pang of panicked sorrow and anger at the sight of the man lying oddly on the rocky ground, his head facing downhill and bleeding profusely. There were gashes on his face and his fingertips were bloody from where he had obviously tried to slow his fall. The most telling evidence, though, was how still his body was. There wasn't even the slightest bit of indication that he was even breathing.

"Doctor?" he questioned, his voice agitated with emotion. Checking the handlink quickly, he ran a hand over his mouth when he read that the odds of the Gallifreyan's surviving the fall was only twelve percent. "Ah, damn it!" he said quietly. As he stood there looking at the Doctor's still figure, he heard a scream and centered on Sam.

Paulo was removing the backpack and not being very gentle about it. The movement was causing Sam's arm to twist and turn which caused the injured man's shoulder to twist as well. Once the pack was off, the thug found a cotton sweater in it. He used the sweater as a bandage on the shoulder, figuring it would stop the bleeding for now. After all, it wouldn't do to let her die before they had their fun. Then, once the makeshift bandage was done, he ransacked the pack for all the supplies that they could carry before tossing it into the trees, nearly empty. "Let's get back to Stephano. We can draw lots for the girl later," he told Tomas as he finished bandaging their prize and then binding the leaper's hands.

"Don't touch him!" Al screamed out. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you both if you touch a hair on his head!" He noticed that Sam was pale and clammy, a sure sign his friend had gone into shock.

Paulo shrugged. "Sounds good to me. You want to carry her?"

"Why don't you?"

"This isn't a time to argue. I'll carry her first, and you can carry her into camp. That work?"

"I suppose."

"This isn't happening!" Al exclaimed, looking between the two of them. Quickly bringing up the handlink, he cried out, "Gooshie! We need a plan! Pronto!" Suddenly, the holographic world around him flickered and disappeared. "That's not what I had in mind!"

The door to the chamber opened and the programmer stepped in. "I didn't do that, Al. The power's been shut off. We're on generator power now and it's not enough to keep the chamber going. We barely have enough power to keep Ziggy up and running."

"Who the hell shut off the power?" the Admiral demanded. "We're on a separate grid than the rest of the state! We aren't affected by power outages!"

"I don't know, Admiral, but there's no power feeding us except what we're making.

Al thought rapidly for a moment. "Redirect as much power as you can to the Imaging Chamber. Get it running again, Gooshie. Sam needs me."

Ziggy spoke up. "Yes, Admiral, he does. Based on the current parameters, I predict that in addition to Sir Alistair's body being found, Rose Tyler's will as well."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Lima, Peru_

_June 2009_

It had been a long time since he'd seen anyone. Not that he cared to see anyone in the camp. He didn't know exactly what they wanted but he certainly had an idea. All of this had to do with that Prometheus Institute. Why else would anyone kidnap an old man like him much less keep him chained to a rock wall in a cavern?

Even as Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart pondered on the issue - not for the first time since he was brought there, mind you - he heard the sounds of men shouting. He sat up quickly, startled even more to see two men carry a young unconscious woman into the cavern and chain her opposite him. From the dried blood on her clothes and her shoddily bandaged shoulder, he could see she was hurt. Immediately, his instincts demanded he go over to assist her however he could but he knew that he was hindered from doing so by his own chains. Despite his best attempts to gain information from his captors concerning his new cellmate, Alistair was left with no clues as to the identity of the woman across from him. However, the lecherous laughs that came from the two guerillas did give him a strong sense of foreboding concerning the young lady's fate.

She was out for about three hours before coming to. As she opened her eyes, she looked around somewhat wildly, pulling on the chains that held her to the wall. "Oh, boy!" the girl exclaimed. "This isn't good."

"That, my dear, is most definitely an understatement," the seasoned veteran replied with a sardonic smile.

The girl, suddenly hearing the voice, looked up. "Who are you?"

"A fellow prisoner, apparently," came the reply. "Sir Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart. I'd say I was at your service but, as you see from my current position, I am not."

A slightly lopsided - and quite attractive, if the Brigadier was any judge - grin graced the face of the girl. "Well, at least I'm in the right place."

"And why do you say that? I seriously doubt that you intended to be shot and then chained to a rock wall."

"Well, no," she admitted a little uncomfortably. "If I'd listened to the Doctor, instead of forging ahead, it's entirely possible I wouldn't be in this particular predicament."

The military man's eyebrows went up with interest at her words. "Doctor, did you say?"

"Yes. He said you were friends. Good friends."

There was silence for a moment as Alistair considered her response. "I've known quite a few doctors in my life, my dear... What was your name?"

"Sa...um...Rose," he stumbled slightly. He'd spent so long with the Gallifreyan that he was feeling more himself then he had for some time.

"Saumrose?" the Brigadier questioned with a smile. Hearing the girl correcting him and telling him that her name was just Rose, he gave her a nod as a way of greeting. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Rose, though I wish it had been under more pleasant circumstances. Now, you were talking about not listening to a friend of mine, a doctor."

"Yeah. He sort of said we needed to turn back and I thought he was just being... well... Time Lordy."

The knight of the realm chuckled slightly. "Probably the most accurate description of a most infuriatingly indescribable man."

"You two are friends," Sam said with a smile.

"Oh, I would say that our relationship is just as indescribable as the Doctor himself. You must be his assistant, then."

"Not exactly..." Sam started only to be stopped by the sound of their captors returning.

"Ah,_ chica_. You are awake." An ugly smile graced the face of the shorter one. "See, Stephano? She is as we told you. Beautiful and young. We have fun tonight, yes?"

Stephano walked towards the woman in chains and grinned slightly. "Oh, yes. We will have fun but we don't need to wait until tonight and we go in shifts. Can't let our guard down. Remember what the boss said. We can't trust _El General_ there."

"So who gets her first?" ask Paulo, obviously excited about the possibility. "I think we should draw lots."

Sam's eyes flared. "Like hell. I'm not doing anything with any of you, so just stop that now."

"Now, don't be like that, _Señorita_," Stephano taunted. "You don't want us to be... upset, do you?"

"You get near that young lady and _I _will be upset," the Brigadier warned, straightening noticeably as he saw the lust in the men's eyes.

Paulo walked over to the military man and hit him. "You think we care if you're upset, old man? You're on borrowed time as it is. When_ el jefe_ turns us loose, you'll be no more."

"I'm not the only one you'll upset if you hurt her," came the strong reply. "You really don't want to mess with her friend."

"Her 'friend' is dead. He was no match for us."

Sam blinked as if remembering but with great confusion. "He went over the cliff. It all went... wrong and he... How long have I been here?"

The concern on the Brigadier's face grew at hearing the answer but he was unable to reply as Stephano did so instead.

"Long enough to get your rest, _chica_. Now it's time for a little... exercise." Taking off his gun holster, he tossed out of reach towards the door before moving his hands to his belt. "Being holed up in these mountains, we don't have many opportunities to be with the beautiful ones." He reached out one hand to fondle her breast.

"Don't," Sam growled. "Leave me alone!" He pulled away from him as far as he could which wasn't far. As Stephano ignored his pleas, He pulled up a leg and pushed him away with his foot.

"You won't deny me!" Stephano yelled back. "Hold her, _amigo_."

"Leave her be, you barbarians!" Alistair shouted at them, pulling against his restraints in a futile attempt to defend her honor.

"_Silencio_!" Paulo said as he moved to Alistair and backhanded him before returning to hold down the girl.

Sam continued to fight against the other two men, one holding him so he couldn't land a blow, the other ripping away the clothes he was wearing and violating him. As Stephano hit his victim's head repeatedly against the wall to prevent him from fighting back, Sam's mind retreated, the trauma causing him to pull back mentally, not able to face the horrid reality. "No! Not again! I won't let you! Stop it, stop it!" His voice changed pitch and tone significantly as the remembered personality of Katie McBain, a rape victim he'd leapt into some years before, took over his consciousness. For the next hour, she screamed and whimpered through the assault as Sam's mind tried to protect itself.

It was a good ten minutes before the elder man stopped shouting at the attackers, only because he had run out of verbal abuse of his own against them. The rest of the time, he helplessly switched between watching and avoiding the sight of the horror before him, silently bearing the tears the girl's screams were causing to his old heart. When at last they had left, both laughing at the fear that permeated the room, he waited several moments, listening to the girl's sobs before speaking gently.

"Rose..." he started but stopped when he found there were no adequate words of comfort in the human language to convey to her. Instead, he decided on words of hope. "The Doctor will come for you. He will come."

She didn't answer, rocking rhythmically and pulling into as close to a fetal position she could with the restraints. The military man could do nothing but continue to give her verbal support.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Approximately three miles from Sam's location, half way down a steep sloping mountain side and near a small stream, lay a tall thin man, a section of his thick brown hair stained crimson with blood. The blue pin-striped suit he wore was dirty with rocks, dust, and small tears while the maroon dress shirt underneath had absorbed quite a large amount of blood, especially on the collar. His face and hands had cuts that clearly spoke of a desperate attempt at saving himself. The rocks around him were strewn with what remained of a backpack full of hiking supplies. If anyone were to come across the still form, it would be quite easy for them to mistaken the man of being a victim of a horrible accident, one which resulted in the poor soul's death.

They would have been wrong on both counts.

"It's a screwdriver, Albert, not a weapon," the still form murmured. A moment later, the Doctor's eyes snapped open, his brown orbs shiny with ill-concealed agony. "_Grintarii! Lutu lutu!_" He cried out loudly as he tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position. Hyperventilating for a moment to fill lungs that had been inactive for far too long, he slowly turned his head to assess his situation as best as he could, grimacing as he did so.

First and foremost, he was in pain. A hell of a lot of pain at that, covering every inch of his body. Second, he was upside down. Well, nearly upside down. A glance around him revealed his current location, one which only made him groan as he finally remembered exactly how he wound up where he was in the first place.

He'd been slowly backing away from an armed Peruvian guerilla that obviously had intentions of killing him. As he approached the cliff he knew he was being herded towards, his mind raced for a solution to his and Sam's predicament. He knew that he had no means of escape without causing severe harm to his wounded scientist friend several feet away; he was under no false impression that the other guerilla would have willingly finished killing Sam if he made a single move to escape his own fate. He also couldn't allow himself to be killed. A quick glance to the rocky surface below told him everything that he needed to know and, within seconds, he'd calculated exactly what he needed to do to prevent his own possible regeneration or, worse yet, death.

The plan was that, once off the cliff, he would use his hands to slow his descent as much as possible before twisting his body to land feet first, knowing that his legs would absorb much of the impact. Then he would tuck into a ball and allow himself to roll a short distance before coming to a stop. These actions would cause him only minor damages but would give the Peruvians a good show, thus convincing them that he was dead and allowing him a chance to come up with a plan to rescue Sam and Alistair from their hands.

From the way he was feeling at the moment, however, it was now clear that the plan didn't quite go off as he intended. Tomas – he recalled the name easily – had been more forceful than he had anticipated, causing him to be further from the wall than he intended. As a result, he clawed at the rock wall zooming past him, his hearts pounding with fear of failing in his plan. He failed to turn his body quickly enough to get into the appropriate landing position, thus causing him to strike the rocks hard on the left back side, sending an agonizing wave to run through him as he tumbled uncontrolled several feet only to strike his head against an outcropped stone which halted his fall, leaving him in his current position.

"_Grintarii_," he said again, this time in frustration of his situation. He was still in agony but he knew he had to refocus away from the pain and toward analyzing his current condition. Forcing himself to think was a good way of starting. And what better way than to do all his analyzing in a foreign language, albeit a well-used one.

"Right, then," he whispered to himself. "Assessment." He slowly attempted to sit up, testing his limits. The moment he did, he screamed. "There's a couple of broken ribs there." Closing his eyes, he forced himself to clear his mind. "Internal bleeding… Aww, bloody hell! Just exactly what I need! Well, at least it's fairly minor. Body's already working on healing it…" Cautiously, he raised his hand to investigate his head. "Cracked skull… but not too bad considering. Lots of surface bleeding, though. Going to feel a bit light-headed, I think." Taking a deep breath, he rolled slightly, stopping himself from finishing his fall down the side of the mountain with a well-placed hand. Then, struggling, he pushed himself up onto his knees, using the same rock he'd hit his head on to maintain his balance, ignoring the agony that shot up through his left arm as he did so. "And a broken collarbone," he panted. "Brilliant. Just brilliant. Well… at least I'm not going to regenerate."

Finally on his feet, he regarded his surroundings. Rocky wall to his right, stream to his left... and backpack contents everywhere. "Oh... even better. No supplies. Well... few supplies." Looking around again, he decided that he needed to tend to his wounds as best as he could and so limped over to the stream, dropping to his knees beside it. Easing himself down, he used his hands as a makeshift cup and gulped down several ounces of water before dousing his head with the liquid, washing away the blood that had clotted in his hair as well as much of the dirt that was in the head wound. He did the same with any cuts he could see, resting for several minutes between each action.

Finding himself at least somewhat refreshed, although still in great pain, he looked towards the west and sighed at the sight of the sun's rays low over the horizon. He quickly calculated what hour that translated into using Earth's rotation and his location on the planet. At least four hours had passed since he last saw Sam Beckett, causing worry to shoot through him.

"Definitely not going according to plan," he muttered, standing once again. Taking a slow deep breath, he looked at the rock wall, his mind all ready planning the quickest way back to the top. He immediately started to work his way up the steep, rough incline, gathering the things he thought he could use and stuffing them into his pockets, thankful that they were dimensionally transcendental. Then, reaching the hardest part of his climb - and the longest - he exhaled slowly, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out his sonic screwdriver.

"Here we go," he verbally encouraged himself before putting the screwdriver between his teeth. Reaching up, he grabbed the first outcropping in the rock and proceeded to pull himself up. The moment he did however, pain shot through his arms, causing him to cry out and drop back down to his last position, his trusty tool at his feet.

"_Ushazte drentare!_" he swore. Groaning, he reached down with his right arm, which was fairly undamaged other than some nasty bruising. After another couple of deep breaths to close his mind off of his physical ailments as much as possible, he again put the sonic between his teeth and started his ascent once more, grunting when the pain became too much for him to do otherwise but still maintaining control over his reactions. Whenever necessary, he stopped, gained a footing, and used the sonic to vibrate small sections of rock to create handholds.

At last, with the final haze of the sun giving very little light, he pulled himself over the top of the wall and rolled a short distance from the edge, his sonic clutched tightly in his right hand. Lying on his back, he panted heavily from the exertion he'd placed on his damaged body, praying to any god out there that he hadn't irreversibly ruined his thin frame's chances of survival. Wracked with agony, he didn't move for a long time, allowing the sun to finish its watch over the Earth and the moon to begin its shift. He was certain that he had pulled several muscles during his climb but his condition was second-most on his mind. He had to find Sam and Alistair quickly, especially since the third day was only ten hours away and that was the day that one of his best friends would die.

He gave a quiet huff of a laugh. It was ironic, really. He'd gone with Sam to make sure that space-time wouldn't be fractured with saving Alistair, ready to kill his oldest human friend if he needed to and yet here he was planning his rescue. And all because Sam Beckett just had to get himself shot. The moment that happened, the Doctor felt the timelines shifting drastically. That alone told him that Alistair's death wasn't as fixed as he had believed. Oh, it was true that he was walking on dangerous ground, playing with his own timeline. But he needed to save Sam, not only because he was a good man and deserved to be saved but also because he would never get his Rose back if he didn't. And he was determined to get Rose back, even if it did mean messing with things he really should be running away from. Besides, if it turned out that his original instincts were true, he still could fix space-time and prevent the Reapers from consuming the Earth. Something, though - he wasn't sure what - was telling him he wouldn't have to.

"And it took falling off a cliff to show me," he laughed sickly, grimacing when his actions resulted in pain shooting through his ribs. While the four hours he'd been unconscious had given his body a chance to start knitting his bones, it wasn't nearly enough time to finish the process. Right now, his body was trying to realigning his broken bones, alignments that were constantly being knocked back out of alignment with every move he made. He desperately needed rest. He knew that, with rest, it would take at least forty-eight more hours and a thorough wrapping for there to be actual progress in his healing. And that was just to get to the first stage. Meantime, however, he would have to endure the pain of multiple broken bones, a slow bleeding lung - the source of his minor internal bleeding - and a torn ligament in his right ankle. He only wished he'd had a strong painkiller to go along with them.

Deciding that he'd had as much rest as he dare, he carefully stood, protecting his left arm as he did so, and, using a nearby tree for support, blinked into the darkness. Raising the sonic, he turned it on, using the blue light emanating from it as torch. Studying his surroundings, he noticed a dark object peeking from the bushes. Moving towards it, he realized it was Sam's backpack. Giving that Sam was nowhere to be seen, he figured they'd taken him but left the pack. Going over to it, he lowered himself to pull it from its hiding place, finding the pack was permeated with his friend's dried blood. He needed to see if there was anything he could use in it and opened it.

The pack was mostly intact, he was glad to see, though some provisions were taken from it. All the canned food that had been in it was gone, though there was a couple of health bars tucked just out of immediate sight. There was also a bottle of water still in its compartment, something he knew he was going to need. Hydration is always a good thing when you are trying to heal. More investigation revealed a bottle of Tylenol, which caused the Gallifreyan to sigh in genuine relief. Opening the bottle, he poured at least seven pills into his mouth, washing them down with a large swig of water. Deciding that there was nothing else in the pack worth his attention, he tucked the pill bottle into his pocket and grabbed the water, tossing the pack back into the bushes. If the guerillas were still on patrol, at the very least the pack being where they left it would help to convince them that there was nothing amiss.

Having procured what little he knew he needed, the Time Lord finally straightened to his full height, ignoring the protests of his body as he did so. Mustering all his strength, he started along the path, trying to track his quarry using only his sonic screwdriver and the moonlight to see by. He didn't get far, however, when he found himself getting very sleepy.

"Not now!" he berated himself, instantly wishing he hadn't taken quite as much of acetametaphine as he had, remembering that the drug had a somnolent effect on the Gallifreyan metabolism. He blinked rapidly, hoping to clear away the fog that was growing in his mind as he continued forward slowly. Finally, however, he couldn't avoid the side effect of the drug, leaning against a tree to keep upright. He didn't even notice when he slid down the tree and slumped under its protective branches into a deep slumber.

**Translations:**

**Grintarii **_– a Gallifreyan curse word; derived from Grintar, a legendary Gallifreyan demon_

**Lutu – **_informal exclamation of pain_

**Ushazte drentare! - **_Bloody hell! (literally blood-like Eternity)_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Chicago, Illinois_

_April 1-2, 2010_

Jack Harkness started to down his second beer. He and Rose Tyler, who would be pegged as a previously missing quantum physicist by anyone looking closely, were in a bar at O'Hare International Airport awaiting their flight to New Mexico after they'd eventually been able to get out of Atlanta. He'd suggested the bar after they'd landed, the flight being extremely uncomfortable for his friend who had complained of extreme pain in her right shoulder. Now, they were awaiting the final destination flight to Albuquerque. As he sipped at his beverage of choice, the TV spot for Harold Saxon appeared on the screen above the bar.

"Hello," the smiling face said from the television. "I'm Harold Saxon, CEO of the Prometheus Institute. Here at P.I., we are working hard to make the world a better place. From finding solutions to world hunger to solving the energy crisis, P.I. is there for you. I am personally pleased to announce the Pi network, now available throughout the world, uniting people from across whole continents. Everything from the internet to telecommunications... right at your fingertips. World unity through technology. That is the promise of the Prometheus Institute. And that is my promise." A fancy logo came on the screen with a baritone announcer proclaiming, "The Prometheus Institute: Creating a Better World... Today."

The man sitting next to Rose piped up. "That Harold Saxon. He's a good man."

"Never heard of him," she commented with a frown. "Seems a bit fond of himself, if you ask me. I admit he's not hard on the eyes but... really. From the way he acts on that advert, you'd think he was humanity's savior or something."

The man turned to her. "You sound like you don't like him."

"Well, maybe I don't. I don't know. It's not like I'm ever going to meet him."

"I'm not sure I like your attitude at all. Harold Saxon is a good man."

"So, you know him personally, do you?"

"Of course not. But I know he's a good man. Everybody knows that."

"Nobody can know everything about him. He probably has a mistress on the side and is embezzling the company. Usually is the case when some executive type is really popular."

The man's voice got a little louder. "I'm telling you. Harold Saxon is a good man. You shouldn't be bad mouthing him like that."

"Everyone has their own opinion, mate. No need to get all upset over a little comment," Rose replied with a frown.

Jack turned as he heard the conversation beside him starting to turn a little testy. Realizing what this was about, he smiled with a grin that could light up the room. "Absolutely right. Harold Saxon is a good man." He said under his breath, "Rose, you don't want to fight this battle."

She turned to Jack. "I'm just saying that everyone has a right to their opinion. Why should this bloke care what I say about this Saxon guy when he obviously doesn't even know him?"

The man continued berating Rose as he praised Jack. "You sound like a sensible man, sir. You really need to get your friend in line, though."

Jack smiled back. "My friend just doesn't know him like we do. He's such a good man." Under his breath he warned again, "Just agree with him and say Harold Saxon is a good man."

"What? Why?" she whispered back to him.

"Just do it. Unless you want a bar fight on your hands. We need to get to New Mexico." His last call to the project had told him they needed to make it home soon. He recalled the news from two days before when the final satellite was put in place. He hadn't thought things would move this quickly but they had.

Giving him an odd look, Rose turned to the patron who had seemed intent on getting into a possible fight with her. "Sure. Yeah. Of course. He's a good man." She looked around the bar for a moment and found an empty table. "I'm... I'm just going to go over there. You know... think about what you said and all." Standing slowly, she took several steps away before gliding over to the table and sitting down. Seeing that Jack had joined her, she glanced at him. "That was weird."

"And it's going to get weirder," Jack said cryptically.

"What? All of a sudden, you can predict the future?"

"Not exactly," Jack answered. "Only that right now we're in a flux condition. Things are happening because someone is manipulating time. Until all the situations play out, we won't know which reality wins out."

"Okay, you're starting to sound like the Doctor. And when you start sounding like the Doctor, I get scared. How do you know time is in flux if you aren't either A) seeing the future or B) are actually from the future and have already seen this happening?"

"I've lived through the past, that's why, and knowing that past, I know that things are in flux now at this time."

"Okay..." Rose commented, frowning at his words. "That so did not make any sense whatsoever."

"You know that my organization is behind keeping PQL afloat, right?"

"Yeah. And..."

"Well, six months ago, the time flux started. I'm not even sure exactly how things are going to play out but I do remember witnessing Al Calavicci making a horrible mistake. We need to get to New Mexico so he won't make that mistake." He looked down at his time piece. "I can't believe it's so hard to get back to the project. You'd think they'd do better maintenance."

"Airplanes and trains... neither of them can leave or arrive on time," Rose told him. "Well, that's what the Doctor says anyway, though he does have an ornate fondness for trains."

"Yeah," Jack answered. There was an announcement over the PA system announcing Flight 2804 to Albuquerque would be delayed until six p.m. This was the third delay. Jack groaned. "Another hour."

"So... when do we have to be there to stop this... mistake?" Seeing Jack look at her for a moment, she quickly added, "I won't ask what this mistake is. Don't want to accidentally make things worse."

"As long as we get out to the project by 8:26 am, we'll be fine."

"So we've got a few hours then."

"God, I hope so."

"I'm guessing this 8:26 timeframe isn't set in stone then."

Jack looked at her with a furrowed brow. "If we're there before then, we have a chance. By all rights, we should be there already." He nodded to the departure screen outside of the bar. "We're quickly running out of options." As he spoke, he was dismayed to see the look on Rose's face begin to morph through a variety of emotions, none of which he wished to see. Confusion was first but the emotions quickly changed to anger and finally fear. The entire change took less than a minute but as the fear took over, she stood suddenly.

"Get away, get away, get away!" Before he could say anything she bolted away out of the bar.

Jack pulled his wallet out and threw enough on the table to cover their drinks before rushing after her. This was a new twist and he was definitely sure he didn't like it. Catching up, he grabbed her. "Rose! What is it? You look terrified! You need to tell me what's going on!"

Abruptly, she wrapped her arms around her friend, sobbing into his chest. "Jack... save me! Don't let them near!"

"Don't let who near?" he asked, holding her close and trying to sooth her.

She pressed harder against him, her eyes moving wildly as she looked over her shoulder, clearly frightened. "Get away from me! No!"

Disturbed by her obvious distress and even more so by her inability to tell him what was going on, he knew he had to get someone to help him and quickly. "Who do I know in Chicago?" he asked rhetorically. A moment later, a revelation came to him. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. A moment later he spoke, "Colonel, Torchwood needs your help." After obviously hearing some positive response, Jack laid out his need for help to include potential medical attention for his friend and a lift to a spot in New Mexico. Receiving assurance that his contact would obtain exactly what the Captain needed, he hung up and tucked the cell phone back in its rightful spot before tightening his hold on Rose, brushing her hair and whispering into her ear in an effort to calm her as best as he could. He was able to obtain a room from the airport management to wait for the helicopter the Colonel was sending, indicating the woman had taken ill.

It was nearly a half of an hour before the transportation arrived and three UNIT personnel entered the room, two medically trained professionals and an armed escort. As they identified themselves, Jack at first didn't look up, still concerned with Rose. Her voice was coarse from screaming and pleading without giving the worried man any sense of what was going on in her mind. "She needs a doctor!"

"Good thing that I am one," came a clipped feminine voice as the doctor moved to examine the girl.

Jack's head snapped at the sound of the doctor's voice. "Grace! Grace Holloway! Damn, I'm glad it's you!" He paused and then added with angst, "You've got to help my friend! Sh... He's in pain and whatever is causing it is terrifying him."

"I should have known this involved you, Jack," the cardiologist replied as she regarded her patient. It was difficult for her to get an assessment of the man's condition, especially since he seemed determined for no one to touch him except for Jack Harkness. "I need to sedate him," she stated, frustration tingeing her voice. Reaching into her medical bag, she prepared the needed medication even as Harkness' panicked tones reached her ears.

"Do it. Just stop his pain!"

"Hold him still," Grace ordered, a syringe in one hand and an antiseptic wipe in the other.

Rose's eyes, seen as Sam's, widened as the doctor moved towards her and screamed as the thin metal entered her arm. A moment later though, her body relaxed in Jack's arms as unconsciousness took her.

"Thank you," Jack stated, his hand brushing her hair away from her now peaceful face.

"You want to tell me what the hell is going on?" the red-head demanded as she put a stethoscope in her ears, using the tool to listen to her patient's heart and lungs. "I don't want to risk moving him without having all the facts."

"I don't know exactly, but I'm going to find out." He pulled the cell phone from his pocket. Now that he knew Rose was in capable hands, he was calling the project as he was sure that there was a connection between what Sam was experiencing and Rose's reactions. He was rather surprised that the phone rang a good five times before it was picked up.

"Control," Gooshie answered the private line.

"Gooshie, where's Al? What's going on over there?" the Captain demanded.

"Power's off, sir. We've been working for the past six hours to figure it out and get the chamber back on line. Right now the emergency generators are only providing enough power to keep the core of the project operational."

"How can the power be off? You're on a separate grid from the rest of the world! Who's been watching over Beckett?"

"No one. Like I said, the chamber's offline." There was a short pause while Gooshie spoke to someone on the other end.

A second later, Al's voice replaced the programmer's. "Jack! I thought you were supposed to be here by now. Didn't you make it to Chicago?"

"We're in Chicago now but we've just had one hell of a delay. What the hell is going on with Sam, Al? Rose was completely freaking out a moment ago, kept screaming for someone to stay away from her."

"That's not good..." Al started.

"No shit, Sherlock!" Jack exclaimed. "Given that my doctor friend hasn't a clue what is wrong with her, it obviously has to be something on your end."

"Yeah. I don't doubt that. What I mean is the last that we saw of Sam, he'd been shot by some thugs in the mountains of Peru and the Doctor's been pushed off a cliff." A slight beat later, he asked, "What friend are you talking about?"

"What do you mean Sam was shot and the Doctor was pushed off a cliff?" the Captain pressed, not answering Al's question.

Grace's head shot up with Jack's words. "The Doctor? Is he all right? What's going on, Jack?"

"I mean just that," Al replied to Jack's demand. "They were trying to save this Brigadier guy who'd been kidnapped. Ziggy had given it a ninety-eight percent probability that this was Sam's mission. The Doctor apparently disagreed and, when they ran into these bastards, Sam wouldn't listen to either the Doctor or me. They shot him. The Doctor tried to help him but instead they rushed him and..." He paused before continuing. "I centered myself on his position. There was no breathing, nothing. I think he might be dead."

The expression on Jack's face shifted from frustration and anger to stunned shock. "But... that's not supposed to happen," he murmured quietly.

"What's not supposed to happen?" the female doctor tending to Sam demanded. "Jack, answer me!"

"What do you mean? You're not being very clear here, Harkness," Al complained.

Closing his eyes to mentally refocus, the ex Time Agent took a deep breath before opening his eyes again. "Al, you have to get that chamber back online. Pull whatever resources you have to but get it up!"

"We've already rerouted all the power that we have to the Imaging Chamber but it's still not enough," the Admiral answered. "Gooshie's still working on it."

Exhaling slowly, Jack shook his head. "Had a feeling something like this would happen someday." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Al, go to my office and to my bookcase. Pull the statuette of Nefertiti away from the wall and look at the base. You'll find a hidden touchscreen keypad. Type in '21011941.'"

"And what will I find if I do that?" Al asked.

"The code will reveal a hidden safe on the third shelf up on my bookcase."

"You have books there..."

"You're observant... but they just look like books."

"Of course. What was I thinking, you actually reading books."

He ignored Al's sarcasm. "Type in the code a second time to open the safe. Inside, there's a small orange cylindrical object. Take it and interface it with the main power. And don't touch anything else in that safe, Al," he said vehemently.

"What will the cylinder do?"

"It'll give you all the power you need to keep the complex running for at least forty-eight hours," came the answer.

"This isn't a time to kid around, Jack!" Al responded. "Nothing on Earth can do that."

"Exactly. Now go! I'll call you back just as soon as I've taken care of Rose."

"Right," answered Al. "Take care of her and get back here pronto. It's possible once we get to Sam we'll be able to get this leap completed and she needs to be in the Waiting Room."

The head of Torchwood rubbed at his eyes. "Right now, Al, completing the leap is the last thing on my mind." Without waiting for a reply, he hung up to find Grace's eyes burrowing into his temple. Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow.

"Jack Harkness, I think you have some serious explaining to do," she stated bluntly. "Like why you gave a Trilirian energy bar to an unauthorized person and why you keep referring to this gentleman as someone named Rose when it's clear that he is Samuel Beckett, the missing quantum physicist."

Jack blinked. "You figured out who he is, huh."

"Yeah, well, working five years for Torchwood kind of taught me to be more than a little observant," she countered.

"Four years, eight months, nineteen days, and six hours... roughly," he corrected.

She gave him a sarcastic smile. "And I thought you didn't care."

Giving her a kindly glare, he sighed. "Okay. This is the deal..."

She held up her hand before he could go further. "Tell it to me back at UNIT HQ Chitown. I'd rather not be having this conversation in a less than secure area, especially if this involves the Doctor."

"Yeah." He sighed as he thought of the Gallifreyan. Al was right. They needed to get back to New Mexico but not because of the leap. Well, not exactly because of it. "Is there any way that my friend can be treated on a UNIT plane?"

She blinked at his words. "I suppose but I'm not sure what is wrong with him in the first place."

"Working on it," Jack answered. He turned picked up Rose in his arms. "Let's get to that helicopter and to the UNIT base."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical Harkness answer," she murmured as she followed him out the door, her colleague and their escort taking point behind Jack.


End file.
